


Erin the Vampire Slayer

by Cinder



Series: Erin the Vampire Slayer [1]
Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Erin's bad with her emotions but we love her anyway, F/M, let Michelle have a battle ax 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25410937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder/pseuds/Cinder
Summary: Erin just wanted to be a normal teen.And then a demon possessed nun attacked her.*An AU version of Derry Girls where Erin's the Slayer, Sister Michael is her (very reluctant) Watcher, and the rest of the Derry Girls are the Scooby Gang.
Relationships: pre-relationship Erin/James
Series: Erin the Vampire Slayer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892998
Comments: 88
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

Erin was positive she was going to die.

She was going to die right here, in detention, out of boredom, listening to Clare and James moan, and watching Orla read her dairy. And it was all Michelle’s fault. Pissing off Big Mandy’s sister, and making them land in detention. She could have been watching David Donnelly’s band right now, but no, Michelle couldn’t keep her mouth shut. And somehow, Erin had gotten roped into it.

Sister Declan was even glaring at her, had been for the whole detention. As if this was all her fault, rather than Michelle’s. Erin tried her best to ignore it, but she could feel Sister Declan’s eyes boring into her head. 

Erin looked down at the desk for a moment, and when she looked back up, Sister Declan was standing over her. She jumped in her seat.

“All right?” Erin asked. 

The nun grabbed her by the throat, lifting her out of her seat and into the air. 

Erin tried to scream, but no air was reaching her lungs. She flailed out, her panicked mind wondering how a 97 year old nun could be so strong. Just as black dots were appearing in her vision, she was released. She fell to the floor, gasping, to see Orla standing behind Sister Declan, repeatedly smacking her with Erin’s diary. 

The nun gave a growl, knocking Orla away. She hit the wall, and fell to the floor, dazed. 

Clare gave a scream and moved towards Orla, then stopped when she noticed Sister Declan’s attention had turned to her. 

Sister Declan began to crawl towards Clare on all fours, like crazed black and white bug. Her jaw opened, extending to a length that shouldn’t be possible. She revealed a set of sharp teeth, that also DEFINITELY shouldn’t have been possible. 

Clare screamed, pushing herself backwards, but not moving fast enough. Erin grabbed the nun by the back of her habit, and tried to pull her away. To her surprise, the sister flew backwards, slamming into the wall. She sat there for a moment, stunned, and then turned to Erin. 

“Oh feck,” Erin said. 

She jumped backwards, only to find herself landing on the teacher’s desk. She blinked, stunned for a second – she should have been too far away to land on the desk, but she was promptly distracted by the fact that Sister Declan now had dug a hand into the desk. Literally dug it in, with nails that were longer and sharper than usual. 

Erin screamed and looked around – only to have her gaze land on a cross hanging above the desk. It was the same type of cross she saw in homes and around the school, with one exception. The end of this cross was pointed, sharp enough to stab into someone. Especially someone that was now clutching onto her knee, digging her fingers into it enough to draw blood - 

Erin kicked out, knocking Sister Declan back. Then she grabbed the cross, and, in one smooth motion, jumped down, ramming the cross into the nun’s chest as she did so. 

For a second, everything was quiet. Then Sister Declan made a rasping sound, and Erin dropped the cross (where it stayed lodged in Sister Declan’s chest) and covered her hands with her ears. Sister Declan was making that sound because she had stabbed her – Sweet Jesus she had stabbed a nun – 

Sister Declan arched her back, and a great gush of black liquid came out of her mouth. Then she collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

“Like out of the fucking Exorcist,” Michelle whispered. 

“…Does this happen often here?” James asked.

The door flew open.

Sister Michael looked at them – Clare on the floor, mouth hanging open; Orla absently staring into the air; Michelle and James holding pencils like daggers.

And Erin. Standing over Sister Declan, with a bloody cross in her hand.

“Took you long enough,” Sister Michael said. 

“Excuse me?” James asked. 

“I mean, honestly, I’ve had that cross hanging for days now,” Sister Michael said. She looked around the room and sighed. “Better come into my office then.” 

*

Erin wasn’t aware of the walk to Sister Michael’s office. She vaguely registered Clare sniffling next to her, of a hand gently around her arm, steering her, and of being pushed into a chair, but everything felt fuzzy and far away. Eventually, she realized that Sister Michael was staring at her, and she shook her head, trying to bring herself back to the present. 

Finally, after several minutes, her vision sharpened and her hearing went from muffled to clear. 

“Can you hear me, Miss Quinn?” Sister Michael said. Her voice was stern, but that was typical. She didn’t seem as apocalyptically angry as Erin had thought she would be, after a student had murdered her teacher. 

Murdered. Oh God. She was going to jail. And then Hell. And that would look like nothing compared to what her mother was going to do to her. 

“Are you going to call our parents then?” Erin asked. She couldn’t look at Sister Michael, just at the black goo that was under her fingernails. 

“No,” Sister Michael said. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen for the past few days.”

“You’ve…been waiting for us to decapitate one of our teachers?” Clare squeaked. 

“Yes, well, no. Just her, actually,” Sister Michael said. Erin looked up to find everyone staring at her. 

“Why?” she rasped.

“Sometimes, a certain young lady goes through changes in her life.”

Erin wondered for a crazy second if Sister Michael was about to give her a sex talk. 

“Increased hormones, changes in your body, and, very occasionally, the ability to gut creatures straight out of hell.” 

“Hell?” Michelle said. “Wait, that place is actually real?”

Sister Michael just shot her a tired glance. “That creature you saw today as friends. Lots and lots of friends,” Sister Michael said. “And you are one of the rare few who can stop them. NOT all of you,” she said, rolling her eyes at Clare’s grasp, “just Miss Quinn, there.” 

“Why me?”

“Who knows? Random selection, magic, fate being especially cruel? No matter the means of selection, you are one of the few who can kill those creatures.” 

“But I don’t want to kill anyone,” Erin said. “I’m…I’m a peaceful person, I just want –“

“Yes, well, that’s not going to be an option anymore. You killed one demon, and others are going to find out about it. Not to mention vampires, werewolves, the whole lot.” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick –“ Erin said, but was outshone by Clare actually boking up in the trash can next to her. 

“I’m supposed to give a whole speech –“ Sister Michael said. She stood up, walking over to a cabinet. “Once in even generation, blah blah blah. You’re what’s called a “Slayer”. It’s your job to protect the world from creatures like Sister Declan.”

“Protect the world from nuns?”

“Sister Declan wasn’t a nun,” Sister Michael said, announcing it like it was a just normal fact. “She was a demon.”

“…She’s been working at this school since my mam was here,” Clare whimpered. “You let a demon work at this school –“

“She was not always a demon,” Sister Michael said. “She got possessed by one a few days ago. I let her be so I could confirm that you,” she nodded to Erin, “are a Slayer. Took your fair time about it too,” she mumbled.

“But…if she was demon, then couldn’t we have exercised her?” Erin said.

“Aye Erin, I think step aerobics are grand, but I’m not sure they could have stopped a demon,” Orla said. 

“I meant, like in ‘The Exorcist’. Kicked the demon out of her body?”

“Not that type of demon,” Sister Michael said, fumbling with a ring of keys.

“There’s more than one type?” Erin said. A feeling of numbness was creeping up her body.

“There are several thousands of types of demons, and you’ll have to learn all of them,” Sister Michael said. She finally found the right key, and inserted it into the cabinet. “And you’ll have to learn how to kill them all with this.” She flung open the cabinet, revealing an array of axes, swords, and other very sharp, very old weapons.

“Fuck,” Michelle whispered.

Clare boked again. 

“I can’t use those – “ Erin said. 

“I know you can’t. That’s why I’ll be giving you lessons every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after classes; teach you how to not cut off your own hand.” 

“No, I mean, I’m peaceful –“

“Aye. We’ll see how peaceful you are when a vampire comes straight at you,” Sister Michael said. She locked up the cabinet and sat down at her desk again. “Well, I think that’s everything. Any questions?” 

Erin just stared at her, mouth hanging open. Michelle leaned around her, her eyes lit up. 

“Can I try one of those axes?” she asked.


	2. Chapter 2

“Miss Quinn, I told you to report to the gymnasium at 5 PM today.”

“Yes Sister.” 

“To begin training.”

“Yes Sister.” 

“To elaborate, this is to begin training you to fight, so that you won’t be brutally killed by demons in ways that even I hesitate to mention. I would have hoped you would take this seriously.” 

“I am!”

“Then what are they doing here?” 

Erin turned around to see Orla, Michelle, James, and Clare standing in the gymnasium, all starting at her with way too innocent looks on their faces.

“Well I didn’t know they were coming!” Erin said. 

“It’s true, we followed her,” Michelle said. 

“We wanted to know more about all this Slayer stuff,” Clare said. “Like, for example, are any more demons going to try and KILL US?” 

“Jesus Clare, take it down a notch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just a little bit panicked BECAUSE WE WERE NEARLY MURERED THE OTHER DAY!” 

“Miss Devlin, lower your voice!” Sister Michael closed her eyes, probably praying for strength. “I will let you sit in on the training sessions if it will keep you from broadcasting the whole news to Derry with your screaming.” 

“Oh…great,” Clare said, immediately growing meek again. “Wait, will we have to use those weapons?” She pointed to a rack of very sharp and deadly looking instruments that Sister Michael had brought to the gymnasium. 

“Clare’s right. We need axes,” Michelle said.

“I didn’t – “ 

“I mean, we’re friends with Erin,” Michelle said. “Who’s to say that one of those freak shows won’t try to attack us too? Like Sister Declan did the other day?”

“Miss Mallon, those weapons are meant for Slayers.” 

“So?” Michelle scoffed. “I could be a Slayer. Sure, maybe I wasn’t chosen by a fairy or whatever –“ 

Sister Michael closed her eyes again, probably to keep from rolling them.

“But I can still learn to swing an ax.” 

“First off, Slayers are not chosen by fairies. Second off, Slayers have abilities which allow them to wield those weapons.” 

“Abilities?” Erin said, feeling like there was a least a bright side to this whole thing. “Like, lasers from the eyes, or flying or –“

“As a Slayer, you have enhanced strength and speed. You also won’t get hurt as easily – you can take a hit from someone and keep going. And you’ll heal quite a bit faster too.” 

“That’s it?” 

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?” 

“I’m just…a little stronger than usual. Would have thought it would have been something cooler.” 

Sister Michael just stared at her for minute before shaking her head. “I’m going to overlook that for my own sanity, and just start training, or else we’ll be here all night and then I’ll have to stab myself with my own sword.” 

*

Since she was supposedly some chosen supernatural warrior, Erin would have thought her training would have been a little bit fancier. As it was, Sister Michael just made her run a lot and lift weights.

“When do you get to use the axes?” Michelle called out from the bleachers.

“We’re starging with the basics,” Sister Michael said, her eyes on Erin. “Building arm and leg muscle. And trust me, you’ll be grateful I’m making you run so much when you’ve got a demon chasing you.” 

Erin tried to push that thought out of her mind. 

After a few hours, Sister Michael finally turned away from her and walked over to where Erin’s friends sat. They had long ago gotten bored – James was doing homework, Clare was reading, Michelle was drinking from a water bottle (which Erin was 90% sure contained vodka), and Orla was attempting to braid James’ hair. 

“Now, as for you four,” Sister Michael began. 

Michelle tried to move from lying down to sitting up, but failed. “Axes?”

“No.”

She resumed lying down. 

“Honestly, I’m pretty sure that all four of you would get destroyed by a demon within the first ten seconds. To be fair, I’d bet the same on Miss Quinn if she wasn’t a Slayer.” 

“Oh, thanks,” Erin called out, only to remember who she was talking to when Sister Michael fixed her with a death glare. 

“I don’t think any of you have potential. Except for Ms. McCool.”

“WHAT?” Michelle said, actually getting to her feet this time (and swaying a bit). 

Erin wasn’t sure how to feel – on one hand, she would have been happier if she could have been doing this whole “slaying” thing with someone. On the other hand, she wouldn’t be able to handle it if one of her friends got killed by a demon or vampire or something. 

Well, to be fair, she probably would be okay without James, but he had only been around for a few days anyway. 

“You all have no fighting skills, and lack the essential personalities to learn.” She pointed to Michelle. “No patience.” 

Michelle scowled.

Sister Michael pointed to Clare. “No bravery.” 

“That’s fair,” Clare said.

Sister Michael pointed to James. “No clue at all what’s going on.” 

“If that means I don’t have to decapitate a vampire, I’m fine with that.” 

As her for,” Sister Michael gestured to Orla, who was making faces at herself in an ax’s reflection. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a wee bit psychic.” 

“Orla?” Erin said. “But she’s –“ She tried to think of how to describe her cousin, and then gave up. “Orla.” 

“Psychics perceive reality in a different way,” Sister Michael said. 

“That explains everything,” Michelle said. 

“I don’t suppose you know of any psychic in your family,” Sister Michael asked. 

“Me mammy’s psychic. She took a class,” Orla said.

Erin opened her mouth to tell Orla that Sarah wasn’t psychic, realized that might not be true, and then promptly shut her mouth again. Orla was going to be insufferable now – And honestly, wasn’t ERIN the one who was supposed to be the super magical badass of the family? She crossed her arms, trying hard to keep herself from looking like she was pouting. 

Sister Michael sighed, looking very tired. “Anyway, I can help you focus your abilities, so you can sense supernatural beings.”

“Okay,” Orla responded, not really seeming to care one way or the other. 

“You want ORLA to be around vampires and demons?” Erin said. She couldn’t imagine a worse idea. From the looks on her friends’ faces, neither could anyone else. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sister Michael said. “I want her to be able to sense them so she could get the hell away from them.” 

“I can fight them!” Orla said. “I’m the only one in the family who has a Bowie knife.” 

“It’s for camping,” Erin explained weakly off of Sister Michael’s alarmed look. “Although she is really good at using it.” 

Orla nodded, picking up a dagger and expertly twirling it between her fingers. Sister Michael’s eyebrows raised so high that they nearly disappeared into her wimple. “Well, couldn’t hurt to give you a few lessons and see how you do.”

“Excellent,” Michelle said, picking up an ax and swinging it. It went flying out of her hands and embedded itself into the wall. 

“You, on the other hand, Ms. Mallon, will stay far away from the weapons,” Sister Michael said. 

*

“She can’t keep me away from the weapons,” Michelle said. She was leaning against the wall of the chippy, looking murderous. 

“Maybe she just wants to keep you from hurting yourself,” James suggested. 

“Shut up dickhead.” 

“Maybe we should just focus on the Paris weekend,” Erin suggested, desperately hoping to turn the conversation away from axes and swords to something normal. Ever since the trip had been announced during assembly that morning, Erin had been dying to go. 

If they went, it could be two days of normalcy, two days away from Sister Michael and training and vampires and whatever the hell else there was out there, apparently wanting to rip her head off. “My ma says I don’t have a trust fund…so we’ll have to get the money from somewhere else.” 

A chorus of “Ayes” came from the rest of the group, and then the conversation turned to getting jobs and Fionnula’s job board, much to Erin’s relief.


	3. Chapter 3

Erin stared down at the still sticky floor of the chippy in shock. She had been able to kill a demon possessed nun, but somehow, she couldn’t clean a fish and chips shop. She had been able to run five miles without breaking a sweat and punch a hole through a boxing bag…and yet she was spending her Saturday scrubbing a grimy floor. And she hadn’t even stolen Fionnula’s stupid noticeboard. Sure, she had used it after Michelle had stolen it, but it’s not like she was the one to actually steal it…

She looked from the sticky and trash covered floor to the mayo stained window, and felt like screaming. She opened her mouth to do just that, when she heard the door opening. Erin’s first thought was that Fionnula was back already, but when she looked up, it was a man walking in. 

“We’re not open,” Clare said. She moved a bit closer to Erin, and Erin didn’t blame her. There was something off about the way the man was looking at all of them. 

“Hello!” Orla said, waving. She stared at the man, her head tilted. “I like your wee horns.” 

“Wh-“ Clare didn’t have time to finish her sentence before Erin pushed her away. She grabbed a broom, and slammed it down on her knee, creating two makeshift stakes. 

At the same time, the man had rapidly begun to shake, transforming. His skin turned an alarming blue; his eyes widened, the pupils becoming yellow; and the horns Orla had complemented him on erupted from his head. 

“Slay –“ The creature began, its voice a rasping hiss. 

Claire screamed.

“Slayer –“

Mores screaming, this time from James.

“Slayer, I have to come to k-“

Orla joined in on the screaming, apparently just for fun. 

The demon glared at Erin. “Make them shut their holes.” 

“…I can’t do that,” Erin said. Nobody could stop Clare when she started panicking. Or Orla when she decided to do some fun screaming. 

The demon lunged at her. 

Erin threw one of the stakes into its chest, and leapt over the counter. She grabbed Clare, who was still screaming, and dragged her over the counter as well. 

“Orla get your arse over here!” Erin screamed, and Orla jumped over, followed by James, who dove headfirst over the counter, slamming into an oven. 

Erin tore upstairs, dragging Clare with one hand, holding the second stake with the other. She could hear Orla and James right behind them.

“Where the fuck is Michelle?” Erin screamed. 

Their question was answered as music suddenly blared from Fionnula’s apartment, nearly deafening them as they stumbled through the door. Michelle was in the living room, chugging liquor that she coughed up when she saw them. 

“What the fuck is going on?” she asked. 

“Get something in front of the door!” James shouted, and he and Clare began moving furniture over. 

“Is anybody going to answer my question?”

Erin grabbed a liquor bottle and slammed it into a wall, sending shards of glass flying. 

Instead of smashing the bottle so that it was now an effective and sharp weapon, the bottle had broken everywhere, and she was now holding only the neck. 

“Are you kidding me?” she screeched, throwing it down. 

Just then, the demon burst through the door, sending James, Clare, and several pieces of Fionnula’s furniture flying. 

It grinned when it saw Erin, its mouth opening unnaturally wide. It pulled the stake out of its chest, dripping black blood on the floor.

“Foolish Slayer,” it rasped. “I am no vampire.” It advanced on Erin. 

“Erin move!” Erin didn’t even look, she just threw herself out of the way. She felt something move over her head as she threw herself behind the couch. She lifted her head just in time to see a glass, flames leaping from it, fly at the demon. 

“Sláinte, motherfucker!” screamed a delighted Michelle, right before throwing another flaming glass. The flames engulfed the demon, sending it flailing towards the wall. It hit the curtains, trying to wrap itself in them to put the fire out. It let out one long, loud screech and then dissolved into a pile of ash. 

Just like with Sister Declan, everyone stood there in silence, unsure of what to do. Finally, it was Clare who broke the silence. 

“Oh no.” Clare whimpered, taking in the ruined curtains, ruined wall, ruined window. “What’ll we do, what’ll we do, what’ll we do?” 

“We can calm the fuck down, for starters,” Michelle said. 

“We just killed a demon and set Fionnula’s curtains on fire!”

“What the fuck are you talking about ‘we’? I’m claiming credit for killing that motherfucker.” Michelle looked pleased. “Let’s see Sister Michael keep me away from the weapons now.” 

“Yes, great, fine,” Clare said. “That’s if we survive Fionnula trying to kill us because we SET HER APARTMENT ON FIRE.” 

Erin was staring at smoking curtains, still dazed. People were trying to kill her. Granted, there was the threat of violence everyday in Derry – she had lived with bomb scares and soldiers all her life. But nobody had ever singled her out specifically, directing all the violence at her. Nobody had ever pointed at her and said that she, Erin Quinn, needed to die. Not anybody else, just her. 

“Are you okay?” James asked. Orla came to stand next to them, leaning her head on Erin’s shoulder. 

“Someone tried to kill me,” Erin said.

“Yes,” James said, clearly as lost for words as Erin was. “That was…very wrong of them.”

“Well said dicko,” Michelle said. She and Clare had finally stopped fighting, and were staring at the smoldering curtains. “Now what? We need an excuse. Sister Michael said all this demon shit was supposed to be kept quiet.” 

“Since when do you listen to what Sister Michael says?” Erin asked.

“Since I might get to use a sword to chop off someone’s head,” Michelle said. 

“What if we…just told an edited version of what happened?” James said. “Michelle was drinking, and lit some glasses on fire, and they caught the curtains on fire as well.”

“That could work!” Clare said. “I heard it’s easier to tell a lie when it’s partly the truth!”

“So everyone’s okay with throwing me under the fucking bus?” Michelle said. “I saved all of your arses and you can’t be fucked to think of a different excuse that isn’t blaming me?” 

“What do you want us to say?” Erin said.

Michelle thought for a moment. “I tripped while carrying a candle.”

“There’s a strong smell of liquor in the room,” James pointed out.

“I tripped while carrying a scented candle,” Michelle said, glaring.

“There’s no way anyone would believe that,” Erin said.

“I would,” Orla said.

Erin stared at Michelle, but she just stubbornly crossed her arms and stared back. Finally, Erin sighed. “Alright, let’s go call my mum and tell her that Michelle tripped carrying a candle.”

“A scented candle.”

“Catch yourself on.”


	4. Chapter 4

“So you’re sure? You’re really, really sure?” Erin paced around Sister Michael’s office. She glanced at her friends, sitting around her, unsure how they were able to keep still.

“For the last time, Miss Quinn, it is not possible.” Sister Michael rubbed her temples, clearly trying to stop a headache. “Raising the dead takes an enormous amount of power and skill. No one would go to all that effort for a dog.” 

Michelle raised an eyebrow, ignoring Erin’s offended gasp. “Okay then, what about a ghost?”

“Ghosts are not nearly as common as the horror writers and television would like us to believe,” Sister Michael said. “Every single house that has a creak in the floorboards gets accused of being haunted now,” she grumbled. “Nobody waits until something actually happens anymore. Personally, I don’t think any so-called ‘hauntings’ should be investigated until there’s been at least one maiming.” 

“But then what is happening?” James asked.

“And whatever it is, shouldn’t you be investigating it?” Clare asked. “To make sure it doesn’t TRY TO KILL US, like everything else seems to be doing in the past couple weeks?” 

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Christ Clare, calm down.”

“I will not! First it was Sister Declan. Then it was that demon in the chippy, then it was those five vampires, then it was –“

“Yes, Ms. Devlin, we get the point,” Sister Michael said. “Unfortunately, you’re just going to have to get used to it.” She nodded to Erin. “So long as you are the Slayer, every supernatural creature with evil intentions in the country and beyond will be after you. Some to stop you from stopping them, some with a score to settle against Slayers, some just for bragging rights.”

“And -

“And I’ve already told you there’s no return policy,” Sister Michael said. “Once fate or God or the Powers that Be have decided you’re the Slayer, you’re the Slayer.” 

“Cracker,” Michelle said. “I’ve had a grand time these past couple weeks.” 

“And while that worries me enormously, we’ve got bigger issues,” Sister Michael said.

“Toto.”

“No.” Ignoring Erin’s second offended gasp, Sister Michael continued. “It’s about Father Peter. I’m afraid he’s getting much too close to Derry’s supernatural business.” She raised an eyebrow at Orla. “What reading are you getting from him?”

“He’s got a curious energy,” Orla said. “He’s always looking, looking, looking, that one.” And then she went back to reading Erin’s diary.

“Wonderful,” Sister Michael deadpanned. “I meant, does he know anything concrete about us yet?”

Orla titled her head to the side. “He knows that we saw the Virgin Mary cry her tears.”

Sister Michael looked dangerously close to putting her head on her desk and remaining there for several hours.

“Sorry, why don’t we want Peter to be involved?” James asked. “He’s a man of God, and vampires and demons hate holy water and crosses and the like. Why don’t we want him on our side?” 

“Because he’s a dose,” Sister Michael said, ignoring Erin’s third offended gasp, and one from James this time as well. “He doesn’t have the skills necessary to handle a life of demon hunting.”

“Oh, and all of us do?” Michelle asked, titling her head in the direction of Clare. 

“No, you don’t, but you got pulled in to it, and I’d prefer to keep the number of incompetents at a minimum,” Sister Michael said. “Lately, Father Peter has been very desperate in his search for existence of God. This has led him into some…dodgy near encounters with the supernatural, much too close for comfort. I’ve been throwing excuses and obstacles into his path, but he still seems hellbent on getting himself murdered by a demon. And, rather unfortunately at times, our job is to protect all innocents. Even if they’re doses.”

“So you want us to spy on him? Keep him out of trouble?” Michelle smirked. “Aye, I think we could do that.”

“I’m not really comfortable with spying on Peter –“ James began. 

“Christ no. You can’t spy on him. I’ve seen you lot trying to be subtle, and I’d have better results if I sent a rabid bear with a bell tied around its neck to spy on him. No, I need you to convince him to leave the priesthood. If he leaves the priesthood, he stops looking for answers. If he stops looking for answers, he avoids becoming a vampire’s pick-me-up.” 

“That’s it?” Michelle said. “No demon bashing, or vampire staking. Not even a wee bit of spying?”

“We can do it!” Clare said, clearly thrilled about finding a way to help that didn’t involve a chance of bodily harm. 

“Sure,” Michelle said, less enthusiastic. 

Erin nodded, lost in thought. “Okay, but could a demon be possessing Toto –“

“For the love of Christ,” Sister Michael moaned.

*

“We could grab him and take him out to the countryside, and see if he makes his way back,” Orla said. 

Erin groaned. The fact that she was actually considering that option was a testament to how few ideas they had about how to get rid of Peter. She and her friends were walking through the streets of Derry, tossing out ideas. They had been doing this for several hours, the afternoon fading into night, and they still hadn’t come up with a good way to stop Peter’s investigations.

“What about you? You were buzzed for this job, and now you can’t even think of anything,” Michelle said to Clare. 

“I’m trying, but I can’t think of anything. Why don’t YOU think of something, Michelle?” Clare said. 

“My talents tend more towards beheading than talking,” Michelle said. Clare snorted, and Michelle scowled. “Oh go on, you weren’t so smug a week ago when I kept that vampire from drinking you dry.” She shrugged. “Why the fuck should I have to do everything around here?” Then she stopped walking. “Quiet the talk, girls.” 

Peter was walking towards them, looking pleased with himself. 

“Ah, here you all are,” Peter said, beaming. “The Derry Journal wants to write about you.” 

“Oh!” Erin said. She frantically searched her brain for any reason that Peter should leave the priesthood, but came up a blank. She had used up all her brainpower for the week cramming for the History final. 

“So we’ll meet tomorrow, and then they can take some pictures and –“ Peter looked around, frowning. “Did you hear that?” 

Erin frowned, straining her ears. There was a faint rustling in the alleyway. Her stomach dropped.

“Oh Christ not now,” she groaned. She reached into her jacket, curling her hand around the stake hidden there.

A vampire emerged from the alleyway, not even bothering with the human pretense. Its fangs were extended, ready for the kill. 

“Mother of God – “ Peter whispered.

“Finally, some fucking action around here,” Michelle said, whipping out stakes.

“Where’d you get those?” Erin asked. “I thought Sister Michael said you with a weapon was more dangerous than any demon –“

“I made my own,” Michelle said. “Look, I carved my initials in there, so we can tell which kills are mine.”

“Why would you want to LET THE VAMPIRES KNOW YOUR IDENTITY?” Clare screamed. 

“They can see my face, shite for brains. I ain’t hidin’ anything from them.” 

“What is this?” Peter said. 

“That would be a vampire,” James said, eager to be helpful to Peter.

“How…how is this possible?”

“Oh for –“ Erin spun around to face him, confident that Michelle would watch her back. “There’s dozens of them in Derry, and demons, and ghosts, and maybe werewolves too, Sister Michael won’t answer my question about them because she thinks Michelle will try to seduce one –“

“A man who transforms into a beast three times a month? Ach, why wouldn’t I want to meet one?” 

“And more and more of them are appearing everyday, and if you don’t want any part of this, you should get out of the priesthood,” Erin said. “And leave Derry. Go someplace far, far away, cause they’re coming to Derry.” 

Peter stared at the vampire. For a moment, Erin thought Sister Michael was wrong about him. That he would stay and fight by their side, not wanting to leave five teenagers to fight a bloodsucking monster. She felt hope grow in her heart. 

Then he turned and ran. 

“Do you think Sister Michael will be upset that we revealed the supernatural to Peter?” James asked. “You know, exactly what she was trying to prevent?” 

“Ach, we got him out of Derry,” Michelle said. “What more does she want?”

Erin turned and threw her stake into the vampire’s heart. It exploded into dust that drifted to their feet. She sighed, feeling more tired than she ever had in her life. 

The vampire was dust. Peter was gone. At this point, she would take whatever wins she could get.


	5. Chapter 5

Erin rushed through Jenny’s house, desperately trying to find her friends. She had put on a good show while walking over with Katya and Orla, but now that Katya had wandered off, she needed to find and warn them. 

It was so obvious, Erin wasn’t sure why she hadn’t seen it before. When she had peered into Katya’s backpack, everything suddenly clicked into place – why Katya was so interested in James and even more important, why James was so interested in Katya.

She ran through the house until she finally spotted Michelle. She grabbed her shoulder, tugging her over to the side of the room.

“She’s a succubus,” Erin said. 

“What? Who?” 

“Look, Sister Michael gave me lessons on all these different types of demons, and one of them was a succubus. They seduce people, and then feed off their life energy. They can make themselves irresistible. Don’t you get it? That’s why James has been paying so much attention to Katya! She’s hypnotized him!”

“Why wasn’t I invited to the demon information session?”

“Really? That’s your first concern? James is in danger!” 

“Right, struggling to give a shit if I’m being honest.” Michelle sighed before reaching into her jacket, pulling out a humongous knife. “All right, let’s go save the prick.” 

“Where the fuck did you get that?” Erin asked.

“It’s one of me ma’s kitchen knives,” Michelle said. Off of Erin’s look, she added, “Well, it’s not like Sister Michael was gonna let me have one of those fancy daggers she’s giving you.” 

Erin nodded, not wanting to waste any more time. “Fine. I’ll take this floor, you take the next one. If you find James, warn him. If you find Katya, try to stop her.”

“I’ll do more than that,” Michelle eyed her knife with manic glee. Erin decided to worry about that later. 

She raced around the house, trying to find James. She felt slightly better with Michelle on the hunt too, and with Orla filling Clare in on everything. (Well, probably. With Orla, sometimes you just had to cross your fingers and hope.) 

Erin finally found James in the kitchen, filling his plate and looking very pleased with himself. 

“James!” Erin ran over to him, and he took a step back, looking alarmed. 

“Are you okay?”

Erin waved his comment off. Okay, so maybe her face was flushed, and her eyes were probably bugged out a wee bit, but she was fine. 

“James, I think Katya is planning on having sex with you,” she hissed. 

“I know!” He looked delighted, and Erin got the urge to throw dib dab at him. 

“She doesn’t love you, doesn’t care about you. You’re just a plaything to her!”

“Yeah…but I don’t care,” James said. 

“James, she’s a succubus!” 

James stopped and turned to her. “What?”

“I figured it out. She’s not the real Katya, she must have somehow taken her place right when they first got into Derry. She came here to attack me, and now she’s trying to attack you because you’re my friend.” 

“…So a woman can’t just be interested in me? The only way anyone could ever want me is because they want to kill me?”

“Yes!” She was so relieved that James was believing her that the rest of his words didn’t register until after she had spoken. She saw a flash of hurt play across his face before it darkened, and immediately knew that she had fucked up, badly. 

“James, that’s not what I meant!”

“No, I got a pretty good idea of what you meant.” James put down the plate and stomped out of the room at such a fast pace that Erin was only able to keep because due to her Slayer speed. 

“I’m going to Katya, and you can’t stop me,” he said. 

A monstrous vision suddenly passed before Erin’s eyes – of James dying while Katya hovered over him, stealing his life.

“Fine, then I’m going to watch!” She realized the words were insane the second they left her mouth, but if this was the only way to make sure that Katya wouldn’t harm James, then she’d do it. 

She tried to follow James across the dance floor, but David Donnelly got in her way. She was so preoccupied with trying to follow James that she barely registered David asking if she wanted a beer. 

By the time she had made it up the stairs, James had vanished. Erin cursed, rushing through the hallway, opening doors and frantically looking for him. The third door she opened stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Oh my God,” Erin said. Purple blood coated the walls, the bed, the carpet. Michelle herself was splattered with it, and her arms were drenched in it up to the elbow. 

Michelle waved at Erin, thrilled. “Erin! Artem wasn’t really Artem! He was a demon!”

Erin just stared at her in shock.

“I killed him! All on me own!” She sat back on the now ruined bed, clearly pleased with herself. 

Clare and Orla came into the room as well. Clare gave a scream of horror. 

“How are we going to explain this to Jenny?” Clare asked.

Michelle shrugged. “We thought the room would look class with a touch of violet?”

“It does look better,” Orla said. 

“What the hell happened here?” They turned to see James walk into the room, looking around in shock.

Erin rushed up to James, grabbing him by his shoulders and looking into his eyes. 

“James, it’s me, it’s Erin! Come back to us, James!” 

“Erin, I’m not under any spell.” 

“Sure you are.” 

“He doesn’t really seem…spellbound,” Claire said. 

“Aye, his aura is all nice and clear,” Orla said, between bits of chocolate covered everything. 

“See? Are you convinced?” James asked, removing her hands from his shoulders. 

“Just because she doesn’t have you hypnotized now, doesn’t mean she hasn’t done it before, or won’t do it again!” 

“Honestly,” James said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. 

Just then Katya burst into the room. She looked at a chocolate covered Orla and a purple covered Michelle, then shrugged and turned to James. “James, I wait long time. What is going on? You no longer want to do sex?” 

“No, I definitely still want to do sex!” James said, following Katya out of the room, with Erin on close on his heels. 

“James, you can’t!” 

“Erin, leave me alone!” Their fight was now attracting attention, as they were passing the staircase, letting the entire first floor see what was going on. 

Erin reached into her jacket pocket, finding the vial she had tucked there before leaving home. She didn’t really want to expose the existence of demons to her entire class, but she had to for James’ sake.

“I’ll prove it to you!” She pulled out the vial, unscrewed the lid, and tossed its contents on Katya. 

Erin leaned back, waiting for the smoke to start raising from Katya’s skin. 

Nothing happened. 

Katya stood there, dripping with holy water. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she shrieked at Erin. 

Erin’s mind raced through what Sister Michael had taught her about succubi. Holy water was definitely one of their weaknesses. And if Katya wasn’t hurt by it…

“Oh,” she said quietly. Ever since she had found the condoms in Katya’s purse and realized what she and James were going to do that night, she had been positive that Katya was a succubus. Any doubts hadn’t even entered her mind. She looked around, and saw that the entire party was staring at her like she was crazy. “I think I’ll…be going now.” 

She went down the stairs, her embarrassment growing as she saw David Donnelly looking at her like she was a madwoman. 

Behind her, she heard Michelle saying “Sorry about the bedroom,” and then a whimper from Jenny Joyce, who clearly did not know what had happened in there yet, but guessed it had something to do with Michelle being covered in purple gore. 

*

The second they were away from Jenny Joyce’s house, James rounded on her. 

“Are you happy? You spent all night running after Katya, and she wasn’t even a succubus!” 

“She could have been!” Erin shot back.

“Your only evidence was that she was interested in me!” James yelled. “But apparently that was so impossible that she had to be a killer –“ 

“Aye, it’s strong evidence,” Michelle said.

“And now you ruined my chance with Katya!”

“Oh, like it would have worked out. I already told you, she doesn’t care about you!”

“Well apparently she’s not the only one,” James said, walking away from her, giving her a angry look when she tried to follow him. “I can find my own way home, thanks.” 

“James, you can’t go off by yourself – it’s not safe!”

“Because you’re such a good judge of what’s safe,” James shot back. He turned his back on her and jogged off.

“Ach, don’t worry about it Erin. I’ll be with him. Maybe I’ll get to kill another demon,” Michelle said, following James. 

Erin looked down at the ground, too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye as James and Michelle continued into the night. 

*

Erin avoided her friends for the rest of the weekend, and was quiet all Monday morning on the bus and in classes. James stayed as far from her as he could get, and Erin couldn’t even bring herself to meet his eyes. 

It was easy to avoid him during assembly and classes, but she didn’t know what she was going to do at lunch. She dragged her feet to their normal spot, hers stomach turning when she saw James was already there. She wasn’t sure how she was going to eat her lunch when she felt like she was going to boke. 

She sat down, trying hard to avoid James’ eyes. After a minute, she felt someone sit down next to her. She peeked over, and saw it was James. 

“You ruined my chances with Katya.”

“Yes.”

“But you were trying to save my life.”

“Yes.”

James nodded, and then offered her some of his crisps. She understood she had been forgiven, and took a few. They sat there in silence, eating, until the rest of the group joined them.


	6. Chapter 6

After several hours of snoring (and Michelle talking in her sleep), Erin couldn’t take it anymore. She got up and crept out of the caravan, closing the door behind her slowly so as not to wake anyone up. 

She walked past the still figures of the men sleeping around a campfire, until she was a little ways out in the grass by herself. She stared at the stars, trying to find constellations, when she heard a twig snap behind her. 

Erin swiveled around, dagger already out, when she realized it was James. “Oh.” She put the dagger away. “Sorry.” 

“S’alright. Couldn’t sleep?” James asked. 

Erin shrugged. “Yeah.” At that moment, she gave a jaw-cracking yawn. She blushed, and looked around, hoping the earth would open up to swallow her. When it didn’t, she clarified. “Didn’t really want to sleep.” 

James looked curious, and Erin rolled her eyes, trying to push down her humiliation. “I don’t sleep that great,” she said. “Anymore.” 

The confusion on James’ face cleared. “Because of the vampires?”

“And demons, and ghosts, and werewolves.” Erin plunked down in the grass, not carrying that she was getting wet. “I have night terrors now. Loud ones.” She felt her blush deepen, burning all the way up to her ears. She felt like a baby, confessing that she couldn’t go to sleep because there were monsters in her closet. Michelle was killing just as many demons as she was, and she was sleeping just fine. And she didn’t even have Slayer strength. 

“That makes sense,” James joined her on the grass. “I have nightmares sometimes and I’m not even the one fighting the demons.” He grinned at her. Erin tried to smile, but couldn’t. 

“I just wish I was braver,” she said. “Like Michelle.” 

James shrugged. “Michelle can afford to be brave.” When Erin glanced at him in shock, unsure if she was being insulted or Michelle was, James said, “This is a game to Michelle, because she gets to decide if she’s hunting or not. But you’re the Slayer. This is your job. You have to do this, because everyone’s coming after you.”

“Not that I’m saying it’s bad Michelle’s helping you, mind,” he said. “I’m glad you have backup.” He looked up at the stars. “I wish I could help more.” 

Erin bit her lip, trying to hold back a smile. She knew they were both thinking of last week, when Sister Michael had finally agreed to give Erin’s friends some basic fighting tips (reasoning that if she didn’t, she’d have Michelle’s death on her hands). Michelle had, of course, passed with flying colors. Orla, Clare, and James had….mixed results. More accurately, Orla had gotten distracted, and James had fallen flat on his face several times. Clare, surprisingly, had done fairly well. They had figured out that if she reached a high enough level of panic, she would go into something that Sister Michael had dubbed “Berserker Mode”, and destroy everything within a 10 meter radius. 

Rather unfortunately, while doing this, Clare couldn’t exactly distinguish between what was a threat and what was not, and had nearly throttled Erin before she could be calmed down. Sister Michael was slightly impressed. Erin was less so, mainly because she didn’t like being shown up by Clare, but also because she was worried Clare’d get driven insane if she forced herself to have cack attacks everyday. They’d decided that Clare would only put herself into a fight if she really needed to. 

But now Erin realized that, even if Clare’s way of fighting wasn’t great (or healthy), it had made James feel insignificant. Michelle and Clare could fight, and Orla was occasionally helpful with her psychic abilities. James didn’t really have a skill yet. But he didn’t need one. Erin was still just amazed that her friends had stuck with her after Sister Declan had attacked her. The fact that they hadn’t all run screaming in the other direction helped her more than she could ever say. 

So she nudged James with her shoulder and made herself smile, despite how exhausted she was. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Even though anyone in their right mind wouldn’t have stuck by me after getting attacked by a nun on their first day of school.” 

It worked – James gave a small grin. “I was new. I thought maybe that was just a normal thing to happen at the start of term.” 

Erin chuckled. Without thinking about it, she took his hand in hers. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she said. 

Suddenly, she was hyperaware of James; of the fact that he was staring at her with an odd look on his face; of the fact that they were sitting next to each other, holding hands; of the fact that their faces were only inches away – and why was she even thinking like that, anyway? 

She cleared her throat and let go of his hand. “You should get some sleep,” she said. “Just because I can’t doesn’t mean everyone else should be wrecked.”

James stared at her for a few more seconds, and then looked up at the night sky. “I’ll think I’ll just stay here and watch the stars for a little while longer, if that’s okay.” 

Erin looked up at the moon. For the first time in ages, she felt at peace. “Okay.” 

*

Erin woke in the morning on the damp grass. Dew soaked into her pajamas, and dampened her hair. She blinked and looked around in the early morning light. As she sat up, something heavy fell off of her, and she realized that James had covered her with his sleeping bag. A few feet away, he was sleeping on the grass, wrapped in a thin blanket. He must have realized the chaos that would happen if her Ma or Grandpa had walked over to find them sharing a sleeping bag. 

Erin stretched and got up, picking up the sleeping bag and placing it over James. Immediately, his bunched up limbs loosened as extra warmth relaxed him. His smiled in his sleep, grabbing the bag and bringing it closer to him. He took a deep breath, and his smile grew. Erin realized how young he looked when sleeping, how happy he was. 

Something new and warm - and slightly uncomfortable - stirred in Erin’s chest. She wasn’t sure what it was, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know. Instead, she turned and made her way back to the caravan.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for some homophobia, since this episode covers the events of 1x06, when Erin was struggling to accept Clare's coming out.

Erin let out a scream as she brought the sword down again. And again. And again. 

“Enough,” Sister Michael said, forcing Erin to lower her sword. “I believe I already told you Miss Quinn, you do not need to shout when attacking. It’s amateurish, it alerts enemies to your presence, and it’s giving me a headache.” 

She looked from Erin to the stuffed dummy that was being used as a training opponent, and raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be very…aggressive in your training this past couple days,” Sister Michael said. An arm fell off the dummy, finally severed by Erin’s blows. 

“Just…apply myself to my training, Sister,” Erin said. 

Sister Michael stared at her, clearly not buying it. 

“I’d love to believe you’re finally taking this seriously, but since I can see Miss Mallon hiding behind those mats –“

“Shite!” came a shout and a mass of brown curls vanishing behind the wrestling mats. 

“What’s really causing this new enthusiasm for maiming things?” Sister Michael asked. 

“Nothing,” Erin said. “Just…trying to save the world.” 

“Miss Quinn,” Sister Michael said, in the voice that made Erin’s knees wobble and her blood run cold, “I asked you a question and I expect an honest answer. What is bothering you?” 

Erin stared at her shoes. She should just tell Sister Michael. She wouldn’t blame her, right? After all, Erin hadn’t done anything wrong by not wanting Clare to come out to her – she hadn’t asked to be come out to, to have to deal with this. 

“Ach, if you’re not going to tell her, then I am,” Michelle said, sticking her head up from behind the mats. She looked to Sister Michael. “We found out Clare’s the secret lesbian from the newspaper article.”

“Ah,” Sister Michael said. “I’m surprised it took you that long – “ 

“You knew?” Erin said. 

“Of course I knew Miss Quinn. I monitor this entire city for supernatural activity, do you think I can’t pick up when one of you is hiding something?” 

“Which means,” she continued, “that the reason Miss Devlin, Miss McCool, and Mr. Maguire aren’t here is because you also found out that Miss Devlin wrote that article, and you had a reaction they don’t agree with.” 

“Orla had step aerobics class,” Erin said. “But Clare and James, yeah. It’s just…” Erin tried to find a way to explain all the emotions roiling inside her: the confusion that her best friend was gay and she hadn’t known; the worry that maybe her classmates would think she was gay too; the hurt that Clare hadn’t talked to her in days; the discomfort – she had never met a lesbian before, how was she supposed to act around Clare now, and what if Clare got a girlfriend? Would they kiss in front of everyone? Erin had never seen two girls kissing before “- just weird.” 

“Weird,” Sister Michael said. She sheathed the sword and put it back its rolling cabinet of weapons. “Your friend has just revealed a secret part of herself to the school – because you forced her to – and is no doubt going through a great deal of inner turmoil.” Each word was very precise, as though Sister Michael was holding back her anger. Erin felt herself shrink even further into herself. 

Sister Michael looked from Erin to Michelle, her face like stone. “I expected better from you.” Erin flinched back. Her voice wasn’t disappointed or upset, rather a statement of fact. She really had thought Erin would react better. “Both of you.” 

And then Sister Michael turned and walked out of the gym. 

Erin stood there, still staring at the ground, adding Sister Michael’s stone face to James’ and Clare’s disappointed ones. The knot in her gut tightened. 

Michelle emerged from behind the mats. “Do you think we can break into the cabinet?” she asked. Her voice was dull, without any of the normal enthusiasm.

“Let’s just go home,” Erin said. Michelle nodded, and they walked out of the gym. 

*

A few days later, after the school talent show, Erin came in with her friends following behind her. Orla was trying to do step aerobics still, but everyone else was cooing over the rainbow pins Michelle had bought, trying to figure out where was the best place to put them on their uniforms. 

“Hmmm,” Sister Michael said, looking over the group. Everyone watched her, waiting for her to try (and fail) to get them to leave. “Well, there you go then,” Sister Michael said, jerking her head in the direction of the bleachers. “Or I’m not taking responsibility when Miss Quinn skewers you with a blade due to her awful aim.” 

“That’s fair,” Michelle said. She walked in the direction of the weapons, and then when Sister Michael stood in front of her, walked to the wrestling mats to hide behind them again. Apparently, she had better view there than the bleachers. 

Erin picked up her sword again and held it out. Sister Michael picked one up as well. Erin gave her a small smile, and she could have sworn, as Sister Michael raised her sword (for a fight that would last all of 10 seconds and end with Erin face down on the ground) that she got a smile in return.


	8. Chapter 8

Erin tried hard to keep herself from yawning as she stood in front of Sister Michael. She wrapped her robe even tighter around herself, shivering in the cool night air. She was cranky and wondering why she couldn’t even have one Friends Across the Barricades weekend to herself without Sister Michael having her check to see if someone was a demon. 

“You’re certain?” Sister Michael asked. 

“They definitely aren’t demons,” Michelle said. “We spent quite a while with the lads tonight before Jenny Joyce stuck her nose into the room.” 

Sister Michael frowned. She spoke to herself, seemingly lost in thought. “I don’t like it. Signs everywhere –“

Erin raised an eyebrow, her interest returning to the conversation.

“Really?” Clare asked. “But you said the demon population has dropped–“

“And that’s what worries me,” Sister Michael said. “Demons and vampires are leaving Derry, and they don’t just do that for no reason. When a demon or vampire leaves its territory, it’s a sign that something more powerful is coming in, and they don’t want to get in the crosshairs.”

“So then we’ll kill it,” Michelle said. “We’ve done all right so far.” 

Sister Michael glared at her. “You are the missing the point, as usual. Something bigger than your normal targets is coming. I thought it was already here, but I must have been mistaken.” 

Erin blinked, wondering if Hell had frozen over. She wasn’t sure what was more stunning – that Sister Michael had thought demons would attack them at their Friends Across the Barricade retreat, or that she had said she was wrong. 

Sister Michael sighed, and waved a hand. “Alright then, in you go. You’ve got a big day of abseiling tomorrow. God help me get through this weekend,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. 

The girls gratefully walked back into the building, and Erin felt herself relax the second the warmth hit her. 

“Good work girls,” Sister Michael said. “Get some sleep.” She locked the front door and walked away. Erin was just about to head back to her room when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. 

She jumped back in shock, eyes wide. Father Peter was standing at the door. She hadn’t seen him since the encounter with the vampires in the alley, where he had run away and left a bunch of teenagers to possibly die.

“Hello!” he said. He jiggled the handle. “Could you let me in?” 

Erin opened the door, her mind still reeling. Had he come to finally apologize? To ask more about demons? 

Once Erin opened the door, he smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I had the worst timing – saw Sister Michael closing the door just as I was coming up the lawn.”

“What are you doing here?” Michelle said, clearly remembering how he had abandoned them to bloodsucking death. 

“I was the priest who was supposed to mediate the event today,” Father Peter said. “I took some time off from the ministry, but I’ve come back. This is my first event back with the church.” 

“What were you doing all that time?” Michelle said. “Finding yourself? Shacking up with a slutty hairdresser? Thinking about how you left us all to die?”

“Ah, yes, I feel bad about that,” Peter said. “If I could explain?” He nodded towards the lobby where Erin’s friends stood. 

“Sure,” Erin said, standing aside to let him move inside. 

The seconds the words left her mouth, she knew she had made a mistake. 

“ERIN NO!” 

It was the first time she had ever heard Sister Michael use her first name, Erin thought for an instant, and then pain hit her. 

She opened her eyes – when had she closed them? – and was lying against the back wall of the lobby. She blinked, her vision wobbling in front of her, trying to focus on the cracks in the wall. She wondered who had made them until she realized she was lying in a mound of plaster and dust.

The air was full of hissing and ringing all around her, making her cover her ears. She realized the ringing was coming from her ears, but the hissing was coming from Father Peter – now fully transformed into a vampire. His eyes were red, and his face was craggy and horrible, as though he had aged 200 years in a few months. He gazed at her, but didn’t dare get any closer, as Sister Michael was standing between them, holding a large crucifix before her. She grasped a stake in her other hand. 

“Give her to me, and I’ll let the rest of them live,” Peter said, gesturing to Erin.

“Oh I don’t fucking think so,” Michelle growled, pulling out her own stake and cross. She stalked to Sister Michael’s side, holding up the cross and pulling the stake up to chest height. “You get any closer,” Michelle said, nodding to the stake. “And I’ll give you this.” 

“Steady Miss Mallon,” Sister Michael said. Erin expected her to order Michelle to get back, but she didn’t. 

Erin shook her head, trying to clear it, when she felt something warm wrap around her shoulders. She nearly lashed out until she saw it was James, trying to help her to her feet. She got up, letting James keep an arm around her shoulders to steady her. Clare had hold of one of her elbows, trying to steady the side James wasn’t standing on. Orla’s teeth were bared, and an expression was on her face that had never been there before. It took Erin a minute to realize it was hatred.

“I don’t like you,” Orla said. 

Father Peter looked at her, and chuckled. Erin broke free from Clare and James and walked (okay, limped) forward, putting herself between Orla and Peter. 

“Come with me Slayer, and I’ll let your cousin live,” Peter said. 

Orla wrapped her arms around Erin, putting her head in the crook of Erin’s neck. “She’s my cousin and she stays with me,” she said. 

“Get out of here Peter,” Sister Michael said. “You can’t get past us.” She raised the cross a little higher, as if to make her point. 

“Aye,” he said. “But I can get to them.” He nodded towards the stairs that led to the boys’ dorms. Sister Michael and Michelle weren’t blocking those. “I can murder quite a few before you stop me, hmm?” he said. He smiled at Erin, and her stomach turned. “You’re quite fast, but not as fast as me.” 

Erin tried to open her mouth, to say that she would go with him. She knew it was a Slayer’s job to protect the world, to keep everyone safe. She waited for the courage to rise in her, the selflessness. 

But all she could think was that she didn’t want to die. She really, really didn’t want to die. 

As she was struggling for words, Michelle’s grip on the stake tightened. “Fuck this,” she said, and ran at Peter. 

“MICHELLE!” This time it was Erin screaming, breaking out of Orla’s hold and rushing forward. She grabbed the holy water and stake out of her robe pockets. She threw the holy water at Peter the second his hands closed on Michelle’s wrists. 

Screams, male and female, echoed through the room. Michelle and Peter fell to their knees. Erin reached Michelle and ripped her away from Peter, causing another pained scream from her friend. 

Peter clawed at his face, agonized screams pouring from his mouth. 

“Michelle,” Erin said, trying to get a good look at her friend. Tears coursed down Michelle’s face, and she was holding her wrist close to her. Erin felt rage race through her, eliminating any remaining pain or fear. 

She pulled the stake out of her robes, running at Peter. Just as she reached him he backhanded her, sending her into a wall again. As she struggled to her feet, she heard further screams. When she looked up, she saw that Peter had James in a headlock, his fangs extended, just inches from James’ neck. 

Erin felt her blood run cold. She gripped the stake even harder. She felt oddly calm, as though her panic had reached its peak, the adrenaline humming in her veins. 

“Let him go,” she said. 

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Stay back, or I’ll kill him.” 

James tried to speak, but with the stranglehold on his neck, could only make a rasping sound. 

Erin took a step forward, clutching her stake so hard she heard it starting to splinter. “Let him go, or I will DEFINITELY kill you.” 

Peter looked around, and Erin could see the defeat in his eyes. Michelle was back on her feet, her good hand holding a cross. Sister Michael was watching Peter, her stake ready to strike. Clare and Orla was glaring at Peter, both holding pieces of broken wall to use as weapons. 

Suddenly James was crashing into Erin, who automatically wrapped her arms around him. She staggered a few steps back, but her Slayer strength managed to keep her upright. She sank to the ground, resting James up against a wall.

“Are you alright?” she said. 

James was taking deep, gasping breaths. He managed a nod, and rested his head against the wall. Erin watched him until she heard a pained cry, and then, with a shock of guilt, remembered everyone else. She jumped up, turning towards the door, which had been thrown open.

Peter was gone. 

Michelle had sunk to the floor again, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Sister Michael was kneeling next to her. 

“It’s okay Erin.” Erin turned to see Clare and Orla standing next to her. “We’ll make sure James is okay, you go check on Michelle.” Erin nodded at Clare’s words, and ran to Michelle’s side. Sister Michael looked up as she skidded to a stop next to her friend, kneeling down. 

“It’s a broken wrist,” she said. 

“Oh God,” Erin muttered. 

“Bastard,” Michelle spat out through her tears. She looked vengefully at the door. 

“Michelle, I’m so –“ 

“It’s not your fault,” Sister Michael cut her off. She helped Michelle to her feet. “Right now, you lot all need to get to my room. Come up with a cover story while I take Michelle to the hospital. I cast a charm to prevent anyone from hearing the fight, but I can’t explain all this damage,” she said. 

“Right,” Erin said, her head spinning. 

“If anyone finds you, say I told you to wait there. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Sister Michael and Michelle exited through the door, leaving Erin staring after them into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

Erin rubbed her eyes, trying hard not to yawn. She didn’t understand why Sister Michael had to have early morning meetings. If she wanted to hear about Erin’s slaying, couldn’t she just wait until after school? Honestly, at this point, Orla was going to have gotten drool in every corner of the Sister’s office. 

As if on cue, Orla gave a loud snore, her head resting against a bookcase. On the couch, Michelle, James, and Clare were struggling to keep their eyes open. James swayed slightly, and Michelle kicked him in the ankle. 

“Miss Quinn? Miss Quinn, are you listening?” Erin jolted to attention, only to find a very angry Sister Michael staring at her. 

“Sorry Sister, I had a late night. Studying for the history exam.” 

Sister Michael just stared at her. “You studied?” Then she shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Anyway, like I was saying,” she raised an eyebrow at Erin, “since we had the encounter with Peter, I’ve brought in someone else to evaluate the situation. Miss De Brún will assess the supernatural community in Derry, as well as sitting in on your training to see how you’re doing. She’ll be posing as a teacher at the school and will be introduced in assembly this morning.” 

“Okay,” Erin said. 

Sister Michael peered closely at her. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” Erin said. “Can I go get ready for assembly?” 

Sister Michael didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “Right then, off you go.” 

Erin sped off without waiting for her friends. 

*

It had been like this for weeks, ever since Father (ex-Father?) Peter had fought them and broken Michelle’s wrist. 

She was terrified her friends hated her, but whenever they asked her to do anything with them, she said no. Then she wondered if they hated her for not going with them, and if they were talking about her while she wasn’t around. 

She tried to focus on other things. School has started again for the year, and she threw herself into her classes. When she found that didn’t keep her busy enough, she started to train even more with Sister Michael. She took long runs on the weekends by herself (to the complete bafflement of her family). She practiced throwing the daggers Sister Michael gave her. After a few weeks of this, she realized her legs and arms were toned, the muscle under them strong and wiry. She even nearly beat Sister Michael in a practice fight one day. 

Her grades had never been higher, her training had never been easier.

And she was miserable.

*

Erin had forced herself to sit down to lunch with her friends, trying to spend some time with them. But no sooner was she in a chair than she immediately wanted to leave. She tried to take her mind off of it by focusing on the different sword maneuvers Sister Michael had been teaching her, but it was hard to do that and keep track of the conversation at the same time. Whenever someone looked at her, waiting for her to enter the conversation, she gave a smile and nod, trying to seem interested in whatever they had been talking about. 

“Are you hungry?” James said, pushing a packet of crisps at her. She grimaced and turned away from the food. 

“You should eat proper,” Michelle said, fiddling with her wrist cast. “Since Miss De Brún is sitting in on your training today.”

“I’m grand, thanks,” Erin said. She could feel her frustration rising, and knew that if she heard one more word from anyone, she’d erupt. She grabbed her stuff and took off early to English. 

*

Erin had hoped for an empty classroom where she could hide until English, but when she walked in, she found Miss De Brún already there, sitting up for the lesson.

“Ah, Miss Quinn,” Miss De Brún walked forward, giving Erin a firm handshake. “I’m glad to meet you. I didn’t think I’d get the chance to properly introduce myself until this afternoon’s training.” 

Erin gave a sharp nod, feeling her frustration rush back up. 

“So tell me,” Miss De Brún said. “What do you think your strengths and weakness as a Slayer are?” 

Erin felt her hands curl into fists. Her head began to pound. 

“Can we just not talk about me being the fecking Slayer for FIVE MINUTES?” Erin said. She was dimly aware that she had sworn at a teacher, and was going to be in so much trouble. “Can’t I be normal for a minute? Is that too much to bloody well ask?” 

“I’m confused, do you want to be normal or five minutes or one?” Miss De Brún asked. 

“Fine, I don’t want to talk about it five minutes,” Erin said. “I don’t want to talk about the fact that suddenly half of bloody Derry seems like it wants to kill me, and I’m a shite Slayer cause I keep getting hurt, and then Michelle got hurt, and if I was just doing my bloody job like I bloody should be doing she wouldn’t have, but it’s not fair that I have to go up against creeps cause I didn’t ask for the fecking job and why do I have to be all selfless and shite? I shouldn’t have to – I didn’t ask for this!” 

“And everyone pretends they know what it’s like, but they don’t, because THEY just get to walk away from this at any time!” Erin said, throwing her bag against the wall. The bag slammed into the wall, breaking the wood. “And Michelle thought it was all just some grand adventure and then she got her wrist broken by a psycho priest, and now they’ll all probably ditch me, and I’ll be all alone!” 

“So you both do and do not want your friends to be around?” Miss De Brún said quietly.

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” Erin said. “I want this to be over. That’s what I want. I want to wake up, and find out I’m not the Slayer anymore.” 

Miss De Brún stood up, and began to leave the room. 

“Where you going?” Erin asked.

“I think you need tea. And I definitely need tea. And probably something stronger, but Michael has all these ridiculous rules about ‘not drinking on schoolgrounds’ and ‘being a bad influence on the students’.” She nodded towards a desk. “Sit.” 

Erin sat, snuffling and wiping her eyes, and wondering if Sister Michael was going to walk in and suspend her for screaming at Miss De Brún. However, when the new teacher came back, she was alone, and carrying two cups of tea. 

Once Miss De Brún had given Erin a cup, she sat herself in the next desk. 

“Did you get it all out?” she asked. 

Erin shrugged. “Most of it, I guess.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing bad about a good rant or two every once in a while,” Miss De Brún said. “Gets rid of the negative emotions rather than keeping them bottled up. Have to drain the wound of its poison.” 

“So you’re not going to tell Sister Michael that I…accidentally made a hole in the wall?” She looked guilty to the gaping hole made by her bag.

“I think we’ll just let her find that little surprise by herself,” Miss De Brún said. She took a sip of her tea. “I was a Watcher too, you know.”

“A what?” Erin said, surprised by this change in topic. 

“It’s the name given to people who guide and instruct Slayers”, Miss De Brún said. She snorted. “I’m not surprised Michael didn’t tell you the official title. She thinks all of the rules and titles are a load of bunk. I’m inclined to agree with her.”

“Is that why she invited you here?” Erin asked. 

“She invited me here because I know what it’s like to have a Slayer, and I know what it’s like to see them face an unimaginable danger.” Miss De Brún paused, staring off into the distance. 

“Her name was Camille. She lived in Marseille. Sweet girl, always had a smile, always ready for a laugh. She wasn’t really chuffed about the violence, but she got along okay. Was cracker with a crossbow.” Miss De Brún gave a faint smile. “I was going to start her on a hunting bow next, see how good she was at that.” Miss De Brún’s smile faded. “And then, one day, she came upon a nest of vampires.”

“It was twenty to one. She never had a chance. As far as I can make out, she thought she was following one back to its lair, and ended up with a whole group.” 

“Michael came up to France to help me take out the lot of them,” Miss De Brún’s voice had a harsh tone to it now. 

Erin tried to imagine Miss De Brún and Sister Michael taking out 20 vampires by themselves. “I thought Sister Michael hated France.” 

“She did. I do too, as a matter of fact. But you do what you have to for your Slayer.” Miss De Brún put her tea cup down. “That’s why, when she called me up, I knew I had to come.” She smirked at Erin. “You cut off my eight week long search for the Abascas demon.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Just picture a lot of blood and ten foot long claws and you’ll get the gist.” 

Erin swallowed hard. 

“Now, on to your little…speech there,” Miss De Brún said, gesturing to where Erin’s backpack still laid against the floor. “Quite frankly, no, it’s not fair that you got picked for this role. It’s not fair that anyone gets picked for this role. If the world was kind and gentle, then such a thing as a Slayer wouldn’t exist.” 

“Being a Slayer is a hard and lonely job,” Miss De Brún said. “The reason others aren’t involved, beyond a Watcher, is because it’s dangerous for normal people. Hell, it’s dangerous for Slayers,” she said. 

“Won’t you get in trouble for saying this?” Erin asked.

“I don’t care. My Slayer’s gone…” Miss De Brún’s eyes looked empty. “And someone should say these things.” 

“So…what do you think I should do?” Erin asked. “Because I have no fecking clue.” 

Miss De Brún took another sip of tea, clearly thinking hard. Finally, after such a long time that Erin thought she was going to scream, she put down her teacup. “I think you should talk to your friends. Being a Slayer is a hard and lonely job, but it doesn’t have to be. You need people to support you, so you don’t feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. ” 

“What if they hate me?” Erin said.

“They stuck with you for this long,” Miss De Brún said. “Most people go running screaming in the other direction when they see a vampire.” She gave a chuckle. “You know, it’s rare for a Slayer to have friends. Especially friends that will fight with them.” 

“Why?” 

“The Council doesn’t like it, views it as too many people knowing about the supernatural,” Miss De Brún said. “The Council of Watchers,” she added, seeing Erin’s confused stare.

“I’ve never heard of them before,” Erin said.

“And that’s probably the last time you’ll hear about them,” Miss De Brún said. “The Council normally likes to put their noses in Slayers’ business, but not in this case,” Miss De Brún said. “They’re scared of Michael.” 

Erin believed it.

“So they’re keeping out of this business,” Miss De Brún said with a wink. “I came here because Mary asked for my professional opinion, and because she knows I won’t go running back to the Council to tell tales.” She stood up, stretching. “Well, this has been nice, but class is in ten.” She gave Erin a wink. “If anyone asks, all I did was quote poetry at you pretentiously and try to inspire you to ‘embrace life’.”

“Right,” Erin said. Maybe it was the tea, or Miss De Brún’s speech, or maybe it was crying and yelling it all out, but she did feel somewhat better. 

*

Erin stood in the gymnasium, trying to push down her fear. She knew that her friends were due to walk in at any moment, ready for another day of watching her train and being ignored by Sister Michael (or, in Michelle’s case, getting yelled at by Sister Michael). 

When she saw them walk in, she had to resist the urge to run for the exit. She tried to repeat Miss De Brún’s words in her head, but her stomach kept flipping over and over. 

“You couldn’t have waited for us?” Michelle said testily. Erin knew she was irritated because her pain medication was wearing off, and because she was sick of Erin ignoring her. The guilt welled inside her.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice, everything that she had felt in the past couple weeks going into the words.

“Well, since you don’t seem to want us around anymore –“ Michelle said. She looked down at the floor, scuffing her shoe against it. “Since we’re just weak and get in your way, and you’re the big strong Slayer –“ 

“I’m not mad at you! I don’t think you’re weak!” Erin felt the tears begin to rise. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, but I also don’t want you to leave me –“ 

“Oh good, you’re going to say it all,” Orla said cheerfully, clearly pleased that Erin’s ‘aura’ or whatever said that Erin had reached an emotional breakthrough. 

“I thought you were mad that I got in your way and got hurt!” Michelle said, raising her broken wrist. 

“I was mad that you tried to fight him for me, when I should have been the one to fight him, or go with him, or whatever –“ 

“You couldn’t have gone with him, Erin,” James said. “He would have killed you.” 

“And then you got hurt and it’s my fault, and I’m afraid you don’t like me anymore and the only reason you haven’t run off screaming is cause you feel guilty –“ Something slammed into Erin, making her stop. She took a few steps backwards until she realized it was Clare, clinging to her and crying.

“We don’t hate you! We could never hate you! We love you so much!” Clare sobbed. 

Erin looked at Michelle. 

“Aye,” Michelle said. “This,” she tapped her wrist cast, “wasn’t your fault. It was the fault of a dick in a frock, and I’m not going anywhere until I pay him back.” 

Erin’s eyes welled up, and she dissolved into another bout of sobs. 

“What? What’d I do?” Michelle asked. 

“I love you,” Erin said. 

Orla crashed into her and Clare, joining them in the hug. James patted Erin’s shoulder, before gently wrapping his arms around the group. Michelle rolled her eyes and came over, joining them in the hug as well.

They stood there for a moment before Michelle spoke again.

“I feel like a dick.” 

“What is going on here?” Sister Michael stood at the entrance to the gymnasium, staring at the mass of sobbing, hugging girls. 

“Oh good, you took my advice,” Miss De Brún breezed past her, walking over to the bleachers. “Now dry your eyes and show me all these sword maneuvers Michael won’t stop bragging about.” 

*

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye, and (much to Erin’s secret disappointment), Miss De Brún had finished her observations. 

“So far, I’ve seen the same signs that you have, Michael,” she said. She was sitting in Sister Michael’s office, surrounded by Erin and her friends. “Demons are vacating the area, crows gathering in large flocks, the stars are out of order –“

“You’re star readers?” Michelle said, looking delighted. Erin knew she’d bring it up the next time Sister Michael tried to ban her from practice. 

“The universe gives you lots of signs, if you’re willing to read them,” was all Miss De Brún said. Then she turned back to Sister Michael. “And yet, I can’t find any evidence of a strongly evil presence. And trust me, I’ve looked. Even when I went down into the fecking sewers, thank you very much for that.” 

“However, the good news is that your Slayer is well trained.” Miss De Brún turned to smile at Erin and her friends. “And she’s got back-up.” 

Sister Michael didn’t look as pleased as the rest of them. “I don’t like it. Signs everywhere, but no trace of any trouble. Something’s not right.” Then she sighed and stood, holding out her hand. “Thanks anyway, Saoirse.” 

Miss De Brún stood and shook her hand. “It’s been a hell of a time. I had fun with your English class.”

“Yes, thank you for that,” Sister Michael said. “Now I’ve got wains trying to ‘live life to the fullest’ or whatever that means.” 

“A little treat for you to deal with,” Miss De Brún said, heading for the door. “It’s been a pleasure, ladies.” She inclined her head at Erin’s friends. “Miss Quinn,” she said. “Erin.” She gave her a small smile. “I wish you a long life and successful hunts.” 

She hesitated at the door, and looked back one more time. “Please do be careful,” she said. “While everything seems okay now, danger can build very quickly.” And then she was gone. 

Sister Michael plopped back down in her chair. “Two weeks of investigative work, and nothing.” 

Erin nodded, holding back a smile. She reclined against the couch with Michelle and Clare, watching James and Orla divide a packet of crisps between them. 

She had her friends back. That wasn’t nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

Told her we were going to Belfast to stop a demon,” Michelle said scornfully. “Of all the lies she’d see straight through –“ 

“I wasn’t the one who took a suitcase of vodka on a bus,” Clare snapped back. 

“If you had just had a better story, we’d still be on the bus, and Sister Michael wouldn’t be waiting to kick our arses on Monday –“ 

Erin rubbed her temples to ignore the bickering. She wasn’t exactly sure what Sister Michael was going to do on Monday, but she had a suspicion it would involve extra training. Lots of extra training. She slumped into her seat, not sure what was worse: Rita’s opera, blaring from the speakers, or Michelle and Clare’s bickering. Rita looked as though she was fighting back a laugh as she listened to Michelle and Clare snap at each other. 

“Shut the feck up!” Erin said finally, glaring at her friends. They glared back, unrepentant. Rita chuckled. 

“I would have thought a demon hunter like you would be more…put together,” Rita said.

“Hey!” Erin said. Then Rita’s words hit her, and her blood ran cold. 

Michelle sighed. “I liked this outfit. I didn’t want to have to clean demon blood off it.” 

Erin grasped the dagger in her jacket, ready to attack if she needed to. 

“You’re the Slayer,” Rita said. She gave a warm grin, and Erin felt her worry fade slightly. 

“How do you know who I am?” she asked. 

“Ach, I’m half human, half fae,” Rita said. 

Michelle’s face scrunched up in concentration. “Hold on, didn’t Sister Michael mention something about fae?” 

“She taught us about them for two hours,” Clare said. “Fae,” she said, seeing the blank look on Michelle’s face, “you know, fairies?”

“But you’re not the wee kind, “ Orla said sadly.

“No, and that’s a gross misconception,” Rita said with dignity. “Only some fae are small and have wings.”

“Aye, and I wanted to see the wings,” Orla said. 

“Ach, what’s that matter? We got magic, no matter if we got wings or not,” Rita said. She thrust her arm out, drawing their attention to the boxes in the back of the van. Next to Take That merchandise, there were several other boxes - some full of bottles, some full of rocks covered with runes, and one box full of what looked like random junk. 

“I’ve got potions, I’ve got charms, I’ve got everything you could want,” she said. “All your magical needs met. All for sale.” Orla raised an eyebrow, peering into the boxes.

“What do you say, Slayer? Care to purchase a little magic? It’d help you in a fi- I would be careful of that one,” Rita said, her attention quickly switching from Erin to Orla. She was peering into the junk box, staring at a rag doll. “That thing has a nasty reputation. Let’s just say that it doesn’t play well with others.”

Michelle grabbed Orla by the back of her jacket and pulled her away, clearly not wanting her concert night to be interrupted by a demon doll. 

“But it’s got an odd look!” Orla protested. “Its spirit is so dark –“ 

“Right,” Erin said, trying to keep an eye on Orla. She wouldn’t fully relax until they were at the concert, safely away from the very angry and possibly homicidal doll. 

She was so preoccupied with Orla, she didn’t even think about the rest of the group. This, she realized a half hour later, turned out to be a mistake.

“I was keeping track of Orla – you could have kept track of everyone else!” Erin yelled. She twisted in her seat to glare at Michelle, who glared right back.

“I thought the dick would have followed us. What, am I his fucking nanny?” Michelle said. 

“I’m sure he’s okay,” Clare said. “The - the polar bear wouldn’t have gotten him, would it?. 

“Serve him right if it did was,” Michelle muttered. “Prick can’t even get into a van.” 

Erin felt relief sweep through her when she saw the Travelers were still by the side of the road, just where they had left them awhile ago. James waved cheerfully when he saw Erin get out of the van.

“You okay then James?” Erin asked. He didn’t look that upset that they had left him, to her surprise. 

“I’m good!” James said. “After you left, JonJo asked if I wanted to help them –“

“He’s a natural salesman, this one,” JonJo said. 

“Who gives a flying fuck?” Michelle said, sliding open the van door. “We’re going to miss the concert if you don’t hurry up.” 

JonJo sniffed. “You don’t have to go with them,” he said to James. “You could stay here, help us sell.” 

James looked halfway tempted, and Erin felt her stomach clench.

“Don’t be daft James,” Erin said. When he gave her a look, she added hastily, “You’ve got the tickets.” 

“Well, whatever you decide, do it quick. I would to be out of here by sundown,” Rita said. “There’s bad omens everywhere.” 

“We’ve heard,” Michelle said, unimpressed. 

“Something’s coming to this area, and it ain’t good,” Rita said. 

“We know,” Michelle called.

“It’s going to be dangerous –“

“OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JAMES GET OVER HERE,” Michelle said. “IF I MISS THE CONCERT CAUSE OF THIS SHITE YOU’RE REALLY GONNA SEE SOMETHING ‘DANGEROUS’”. 

“What do you say, James?” Jonjo said. “Stay with us?”

“GARY FUCKING BARLOW, JAMES,” Michelle called from the van. 

“Sorry, but I’ve got a concert to get to,” James said. Erin felt herself relax. 

*

Back in the van, Rita went even faster than before, clearly trying to get to the concert before it started. She turned the volume up so opera blared through the van, nearly deafening Erin. 

“Are you sure we can’t switch to something else?” Michelle shouted. 

“Oh I don’t know,” James shouted. “It’s not too bad. My mum went through an opera phase when she was dating a singer. I heard a lot of opera,” his face took on a slightly traumatized look. “Opera all day for six months.” 

“Well then,” Rita said, turning down the volume, “that’s a nice surprise, to meet another opera fan.”

“I’m not –“ James said, before Clare elbowed him in the ribs, clearly not wanting to provoke Rita. 

“Tell you what – since you have actual good taste in music, and you got left behind by this lot –Why don’t you grab a potion? On the house?” 

“Really?” James said. 

“Ach, it makes me feel good, knowing that someone your age appreciates the greatest music ever created,” the fae said. She nodded towards the assorted box of potions. “Take one from there.” 

The girls sorted through the potions, all different colors and sizes. James looked mesmerized by the bottles, and the mysterious labels on them. 

“Just pick one!” Michelle snapped, clearly irritated that James got a potion and she didn’t. 

“That’s a nice pretty one,” Orla said, nodding to a bottle with a dark purple liquid inside. “Oooh, and that one –“ She nodded to one that looked like black sludge. 

“What about this?” James said, holding one up. It was a bright, vivid turquoise, reminding Erin of a tropical ocean. The bottle was small, about the size of her thumbnail. 

“What do you think?” James said, holding it up to Orla. She beamed, nodding enthusiastically. 

“Good choice, that,” Rita said. 

“I got a good feeling about it,” James said. He peered at the label, written in minuscule print. “It says ‘Encore du temps’. What’s that mean?” 

“Means it heals the drinker,” Rita said. “You get hurt, you just take a sip of that, and you get healed up like you never got injured at all.” 

“I’ll take this one,” James said, shaking the bottle.

“Aye, of course you’d take the valuable one,” the fae said. “You sure you don’t want an invisibility potion instead? Maybe a truth potion?”

James shook his head, slipping the small bottle into his jacket pocket. 

“Wait, no, let me see James,” Clare said. “I got distracted by the doll –“ She jerked her thumb at the doll, which was wearing a creepy grin Erin hadn’t remembered seeing before. 

James took out the bottle, holding it up. Clare oohed and Orla seemed entranced by it. Erin guessed that her cousin got a good feeling from it, remembering how James had consulted her before pocketing it. Michelle was the only one who didn’t look impressed. 

“Only took you ages to choose,” Michelle scoffed. 

James didn’t say anything. He continued to look at the small bottle, a small smile on his face.


	11. Chapter 11

“For the last time, no, your mother did not kill your aunt,” Sister Michael said, rubbing her temples.

“But –“

“No one, not even an incredibly powerful witch, can make a woman drop dead with just a few words. ESPECIALLY not an amateur –“

“So she might have magic?!” 

“It’s possible – lots of people have embers of magic, but they don’t know how to access or use them. Honestly, I think you don’t have anything to worry about – her side seems to have gotten all of it –“ Sister Michael jerked her head to where Orla was staring down at Bridie.

“Aye, Mammy’s clever that way,” Orla beamed. 

“Now go pay your respects to the deceased and let me get through this night with as little pain and tongue people as I can,” Sister Michael said, jerking her head at Bridie in her coffin. 

Erin opened her mouth again (sure, how positive WAS Sister Michael that her Mam hadn’t killed Bridie?), when her friends entered the room.

“’Scue me,” she said. She thought she heard Sister Michael mutter “Thank you God” behind her, but chose to ignore it. 

“How’s it been?” Michelle asked, and Clare waved. James’ attention seemed mostly focused on the dead body. 

“Hello girls, I was just leaving,” Sister Michael said, and all but charged out the door. 

“What’s her rush?” Michelle asked.

“She says that Mammy didn’t kill Bridie,” Erin said. 

“How can she be sure?”

“That’s what I said!”

“Does everyone else see the dead body?” James asked.

Erin stared at him, confused. 

“You’ve seen lots of dead bodies, ballache,” Michelle said. 

“But never one that wasn’t demon possessed or attacked by a vampire or –“

“So gross deaths are fine, but a normal death makes you have a cack attack? English,” Michelle muttered to herself. 

“You can touch her if you want,” Orla said.

“What would I want to touch her?” James asked, horrified.

“You can still feel a wee bit of her spirit in there,” Orla said. She titled her head towards Birdie, entranced. “It hasn’t left yet.”

Everyone stared at her, and, as normally happened when Orla said something peculiar, they ignored it. 

“Forget about dead bodies, do you want to see something class?” Michelle asked, practically beaming. She plopped a container on Bridie’s lap and ripped off the lid. 

“Scones?” Erin said.

“I like scones!” Clare said. 

“These aren’t any old scones, girls,” Michelle said. 

Everyone stared curiously at the scones. Then Clare gasped. 

“You put the drugs in the scones! Those are drugs scones!” She staggered back, trying to hunch down over her kneecaps. “I told you at the wedding, if you did drugs our friendship was over!” 

“Ach, don’t be ridiculous.” Michelle tapped the container. “I ain’t wasting good blow on a scone. I’ve still got that in my room.”

“That right there are scones baked with a potion. A luck potion.” Michelle beamed.

Everyone simply stared at back her. Clare’s mouth was so wide that Erin could have thrown a scone into it. 

“I saw James be all proud of his potion that the fae gave him cause she felt sorry for him –“

“Rita gave me the potion cause I like opera!” James said. “And you DID leave me behind…” he muttered. 

“So I nicked a book of potions from Sister Michael’s office, and gave it a try.”

Michelle looked pleased with herself, while everyone looked was staring at the scones in horror.

“You made a POTION?” Clare said. “But you – you don’t have the equipment, the ingredients –“ 

“Ach, I just used a pot instead of a caldron, doesn’t make any difference” Michelle said. “And I used things around the kitchen cause I couldn’t get me hands on fae hair and some other stuff, but I got the beetle shells.” 

Clare looked nauseous. Erin felt nauseous. Orla seemed curious. 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” James said. 

“Of course it’s safe,” Michelle said. 

“It is NOT safe!” Clare said. “Sister Michael said that potions were very precise, and that ONE substation could change the WHOLE thing.” 

“Ach, she just said that so we wouldn’t try to make ‘em,” Michelle said. She pulled the lid off the container. “All right, who wants first try?”

Erin slapped Orla’s hand away as she reached for one. 

Michelle glared at them all, but before she could try to bully them into eating the (probably poisoned) scones, one of the women who had been helping in the kitchen came into the room. 

“I’ll take that,” she said, scooping up the container, not even questioning why it was on a corpse’s lap. 

Erin tried to force herself to speak, but she was torn between yelling at Michelle and yelling at the woman, and couldn’t get out more than a squeak. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Michelle said. 

“You’ve probably poisoned a whole group of people,” Clare said. “YOU’VE KILLED PEOPLE AT A WAKE!”

“Shut up,” Michelle hissed at her. 

“We could get the scones back,” James said. “She just left with them.” 

“We could get Sister Michael to help!” Clare said. 

Now it was Michelle who looked horrified. “She’ll kill me,” she said. 

“Well you should have thought of that before you broke into her office and made poisoned scones!” Clare hissed.

“They’re not poison! Probably.” 

“Shut up,” Erin said, trying think of a plan. “I’ll go get them from the kitchen. You get any that people have on their plates. And remember, be subtle!” 

“Oh sweet Jesus we’re doomed,” Clare moaned. 

*

“We’re so, so, so doomed,” Clare moaned again. She wrung her hands, staring down at the scones floating in the water. 

“You’ve been saying that for the past 15 minutes Clare, give it a rest,” Erin snapped.

“I’m telling you,” James insisted, “this is how they do it in ‘Goodfellas’. You just have to toss them in the loo.” 

Erin raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t have any better ideas, so tossed the scones in.

“Waste of good scones,” Michelle muttered, looking darkly at the group. 

“These are NOT good scones,” Erin said. Granda had one, and now he’s acting really weird.”

Michelle’s face brightened. “See, I TOLD you they don’t kill people,” she said triumphantly. 

“Are you seriously bragging about this?” Clare said. 

“Whatever the feck they are, they’re not lucky!” Erin hissed. “He was NICE to Daddy.” 

Everyone stared at her in silence for a moment. Michelle looked down at her scones in horror. 

“What have I done?” 

*

Erin monitored her granda closely, but he didn’t appear any worse for having eating Michelle’s scone. After a few hours he lost his giddy mood (which her mam had attributed to Birdie being dead), and was back to normal. 

And that, she thought, was that. Or at least it had been, until after Bridie’s burial, when she found herself facing a scone on her plate. 

Erin stared in horror at the scone. Finally she sighed, shook her head, and took a bite. Whatever it was, at least she knew the it wouldn’t harm her. 

But she was never letting Michelle near potions again.


	12. Chapter 12

Erin had never hated anything more than she hated the kitchen clock. It sat there on the wall, taunting her, reminding her that she had been idiot. She had thrown Clare over just so she could go out with John Paul, had made her friend furious with her, and the dick didn’t even show up. 

“He’s not coming,” she mumbled. “I’m gonna go and change.” She suddenly hated her dress – the color, the style, the fact that she had to do a stupid little shuffle because she couldn’t walk properly in it. 

“Maybe leave it another few minutes,” her mam said. 

“I want to get out of this thing,” she said. She couldn’t bear to look at her mam, to see her sympathetic face. She knew she’d burst into tears and not stop if she did.

She walked up the stairs, feeling her tears welling anyway, when the doorbell rang. A small bit of hope rose in her. She opened the front door, and gave a smile. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” John Paul said, holding out a gorgeous corsage, “but the flower shop got the order mixed up, and then I had to wait, and –“

“It’s okay,” Erin said. She wasn’t really sure if it WAS okay, but felt some of her frustration ebbing away. John Paul was here, and he had an excuse for why he was late. If they hurried, she could still have a few dances at the prom – She looped her arm through his, and waved goodbye to her parents. Her mam didn’t look at all pleased about the situation, despite telling Erin to wait a few more minutes for him. 

“Erin, love –“ 

“Bye Mam!” Erin said. She took John Paul’s arm in hers, and had them out the door before her mother could utter another word and potentially embarrass her. 

She was so distracted by getting John Paul away that she didn’t realize they were walking in the wrong direction until a few minutes later. 

“This isn’t the way to the school –“ she said, trying to turn them around. But John Paul kept walking forward.

“I know a shortcut,” he said, grinning at her. 

“Okay,” Erin said. She tried to push down the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She had lived in Derry all her life, just like John Paul had, and she didn’t know any shortcut to school that went this way. She tried to calm herself down – maybe John Paul had gotten his shortcuts mixed up? It wasn’t like he went Lady Immaculate, he might not know the best way to get there. 

Her stomach plummeted when she realized that John Paul was leading her into a graveyard. She gently tugged her arm away from his, slowing down as they moved through the graveyard. 

“I’m not sure if we should be here,” Erin said. It was better than “This really isn’t safe, and I know, because I’m here almost every night killing vampires”, but it was less convincing, because John Paul was still moving forward. “I’m serious, it’s not safe –“

“You can say that again.” 

Erin froze, her body tensing. A figure stepped out from behind a tree and moved into the moonlight. 

“Hello Erin,” Peter grinned. “ So nice to see you again.” 

Erin felt her face drain of all its blood. She turned to John Paul, but he was just standing there, his face blank. 

“It was so easy to convince him to help,” Peter said. “Just a little potion in his drink, and all of a sudden he was happy to do whatever I wanted.” 

Erin’s mind flashed to the two daggers hidden under her dress, strapped to her legs. All she had to do was move her hands down to get them. Her hands twitched, and then Peter was on her in a flash. His hands clamped down on her arms, pinning them to her sides. 

“Peter, Father, please –“ Erin said. 

“Father Peter died the day you saw him slay that vampire. Now, I’m something different, something more.” His eyes narrowed. “And I’ve got plans for you, Slayer.” 

“Let her go!” Erin’s heart stopped at the familiar voice. She managed to turn her head to see James running towards her.

“James!” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell him to run or to help her. Then she remembered Michelle’s broken wrist. “James, run! Get Sister Michael!” 

Peter grinned, digging his nails into her arms. She felt the blood flowing down her arms. “We’ll be far away by then –“ He was cut off by a stake being thrown at his head. He easily ducked it, and chuckled, his attention back to James. “Foolish move, boy.” 

Erin shook her head at James in disbelief. She knew he only had one stake on him when he wasn’t hunting. Why would he give up his weapon so easily? Then it hit her – he hadn’t thrown the stake to hit Peter. He had thrown it to give Erin a chance at a weapon. 

She twisted in Peter’s hands, narrowing her eyes. He smiled, and put his head close to hers, his fangs extending in taunt to her. Erin slammed her head into his, and his grip loosened. She twisted around, freeing herself, trying to run for James’ stake. But she tripped and fell; cursing herself for picking such a fucking stupid dress. 

Erin scrambled backwards, trying to go in the direction of the stake. Her daggers would defend her, but they wouldn’t be able to kill Peter in one blow. Peter advanced on her, hissing. 

“Stay away from her!” 

James picked up a tree branch, holding it out in front of him. Peter chuckled, turning away from Erin. “You’re got persistence, I’ll give you that.” He stood at ease while James circled him, trying to get to Erin. When James was only a few feet from her, Peter grabbed the branch and pulled James towards him, backhanding him across the face and sending him flying through the graveyard. 

“James!” Erin screamed. Rage filled her brain, and she forgot about the stake. First Michelle, now James. She wouldn’t let Peter hurt anyone else. 

She grabbed her daggers and tried to run at Peter. She didn’t get two steps before she fell down. “Oh, for the love of –“ She slashed her knife down the sides of her dress, slitting the outfit up to her knees. She about to start running for Peter again when she was grabbed from behind. She titled her head up to see it was John Paul holding her. 

“Piss off!” She slammed her head into his face, and he reeled backwards. He dropped her to clutch his nose, which was undoubtably broken. She felt sorry for him, but decided to focus on it later. 

She advanced on Peter, her daggers at the ready. Peter hissed at her, but Erin didn’t flinch. She wasn’t the same Slayer he had attacked all those months ago. Ever since her first fight with him, she had become stronger, faster, and a better fighter. He had done this, had pushed her to become the best Slayer she could be. So he would never lay a hand on her friends again. 

He must have seen it was a losing battle – the determination on her face, the muscle on her arms, the fact that he no longer had the element of surprise. He gave a final hiss, and ran. 

Erin threw a dagger after him, but he had surprised her by running away, and she knew from the moment it left her hand it wouldn’t hit him. It sailed through the air, and she heard it land in the grass several feet away. 

She ran turned away, trying to find James. Thank God it was a full moon. That, combined with her enhanced senses, made it easy to see in the graveyard.

“Erin, I’m over here!” Erin let out a sigh of relief to see James staggering to his feet. He looked slightly wobbly, but it was clear he wasn’t badly hurt. 

“James!” She ran over to him, not even thinking before throwing her arms around him in a hug. 

“What’s happened?” John Paul said, looking around. He looked down at his tux, and then touched his bloody nose. He pulled his hand away, looking alarmed at all the blood on it. 

“We – I don’t know,” Erin said. “James and I were, uh –“ She looked at James, and realized there was only one believable reason they’d be alone, in a graveyard, when they were supposed to be at the prom. “We were just…hoping to get a little alone time,” she said, wrapping an arm around James’ waist. She snuck a look at James, who looked positively alarmed, gazing down as though he didn’t realize until this moment that Erin had arms. “And we found you passed out in the grass.”

“But…I was supposed to be your prom date, wasn’t I?” John Paul asked.

“Yes,” James said, a slightly defensive note in his voice. “But you never showed up, so Erin rang me.” 

John Paul frowned. “Last thing I remember was going to get a drink earlier –“ He stared at Erin, an ashamed look on his face. “Christ, I must have drank too much and wandered off. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Erin said, feeling guilty that he had been dragged into this. “But if you don’t mind…”

“Yes, yes.” He touched his nose again. “I’m gonna go find a doc.” 

Erin nodded, and held her breath until she saw him leave the graveyard. Then she sighed and brought her arm back to her side. 

“Thank you,” she said again, giving James a tired smile. Then something occurred to her. “Why are you here? What about your creep convention?” she asked. 

“Your mum rang me, said that John Paul had stood you up. I was going to escort you to the prom, but right before I got to your house I saw you walking with John Paul.” He blushed, and looked ashamed of himself. “You weren’t walking towards the school, and I was afraid that something was wrong. So I followed you. I – I would have gone away right away if John Paul hadn’t been trying to lead you to Peter and you two were just walking to…somewhere,” he said, going beet red. “I wasn’t trying to spy, I was just worried –“ 

Erin hugged him again. “Thank you James,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.” When she pulled away, she saw that he looked just as much of a mess as she did. “Oh, your Doctor Who scarf!” she said. The poor thing had been torn to ribbons. 

James shrugged, but there was hurt in his eyes when he stared at the scarf. “S’okay,” he said. “C’mon, we should probably get out of here in case Peter decides to come back.” He offered her his arm. She took it, and they walked out of the graveyard and through the Derry streets. After a little while, Erin looked around curiously.

“Why’s everyone excited tonight?” she said, nodding to the houses around them. People were talking excitedly, sharing drinks and food, some waving flags.

“Erin!” She turned her head to see Clare and Michelle running toward them. 

“Sweet Jesus what the fuck happened to you?” Erin said, staring at Michelle.

“What? Oh, it’s tomato juice, not blood,” Michelle said. “But you! You missed a cracker prom - Mae turned out to be a lunatic and raged so much over Jenny rigging the Prom Queen vote that she tried to pull a Carrie on Jenny and then Clare put Mae in a headlock –“ 

Clare blushed, but looked proud of herself. Erin beamed at her, and reminded herself that, when things had calmed down, she needed to give Clare an apology for dumping her as a prom date. 

“But the buckets got knocked over anyway and Jenny got dumped with tomato juice and then we walked back and everyone was losing their minds cause – Wait, what the hell happened to you?”

“John Paul was an hour and a half late,” Erin said. “…and was also mind controlled.” 

“That dick,” Michelle fumed. 

“Mind controlled by who?” Clare asked. 

“Father Peter,” James said.

“Ach, I think now that he’s trying to murder us you can stop calling him ‘Father,’” Michelle said. “What’d he do?”

“Tried to grab me – Where’s Orla?” Erin said, suddenly realizing her cousin wasn’t with them. “Is she –“

“Oh, she’s fine,” Michelle said. “Your granda said he wouldn’t be a proper prom date unless he ‘safely escorted her home’. We were heading there anyway to find you.” She flapped a hand. “But enough about that – what about Peter?” 

“He got John Paul to lead me into a trap. Then he tried to grab me, but James got in his way.” 

“He did?” Michelle looked halfway impressed. “So you did something right for once, did you?” 

James just rolled his eyes. 

“He saved my life,” Erin said. “He distracted Peter long enough for me to get a weapon and face him.”

“Did ya kill him?” Michelle asked eagerly. 

Erin shook her head. “No, but I’ll probably get another chance. He’s already come after me twice, he’ll probably do it again.” 

“I think he wants you alive for some reason,” James said. “Every time he’s tried to attack us, he’s never tried to kill you.”

“And we all know he doesn’t mind trying to kill the rest of us,” Michelle said. 

“What do you think he wants with me?” Erin asked. 

Michelle shrugged. “You’re the Slayer. Maybe he just wants to brag that he captured you and have you to confirm his story.” 

Erin shuddered, and she felt James draw slightly closer to her. Once again, she felt gratitude overwhelm her. If he hadn’t been able to surprise Peter, then…well, she really didn’t want to imagine it. 

“C’mon,” Michelle said, wrapping an arm around Erin’s shoulders. “Let’s get back to your place. I’ll bet your mam has cake out.”

“What, why?”

“The IRA declared a ceasefire.”

“THEY WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?”

“Well I was about to, but you went and nearly got yourself kidnapped by Peter, didn’t you? I had to hear that story first!”


	13. Chapter 13

Erin felt her steps quicken as she started to hear the roar of the crowd. She was going to see the president! This was something she could write about years later, telling people how she had witnessed history with her own two eyes! 

Sister Michael would probably make her do extra training for skiving off school, but she’d deal with it. 

“And why not?” Michelle said, when Erin brought it up on their way to the ceremony. “We could all do with more training now that Peter’s lurking around again.” 

“I’m the one that actually trains,” Erin said. “You just watch.”

“Only cause Sister Michael won’t let me,” Michelle said. 

“True enough,” Erin said. She looked over her shoulder, expecting James to join the conversation, but he was oddly silent. She was about to try and get him to join the conversation – maybe his mam’s visit was making him sad – when Michelle grabbed her arm.

“Found Clare,” she said, nodding to a small blonde head, at the very front and center of the crowd. It was so thick that even with Erin leading the way in pushing them through to Clare, it took a while. 

“What’s with the cut?” Erin said, once she finally reached Clare. “Did you run into a demon on your way here?” 

Clare shook her head. “People tried to muscle in on this spot.” She nodded to where a wee girl was being consoled by her mother. “I fended her off. She’ll think twice next time.” 

Erin looked again at the girl, and was relieved to see she looked okay. 

Michelle simply stared at Clare. “Sister Michael gives us training, and you use to fight a wain.” 

“I did, and I’ll do it again if I have to!” Clare said. “Now everyone link up.” 

James cleared his throat as everyone joined up. “I have to talk to you. To all of you.”

“Just fuck up and link on!” Michelle said, her limited patience already used up on Clare. 

“I’m leaving. I’m – I’m going back to London with mum.” 

“When?” Erin didn’t realize she had spoken until a few seconds later. 

“Now, I have to go now. The taxi’s all booked. It all happened so fast.” James looked at her, and Erin felt frozen to the ground. He smiled, and pulled something out of his jacket pocket. The potion Rita had given him. James pressed the small vial into her hands. “It’s sort of a going away present. I hope it helps.”

Erin opened her mouth to say something, but no words come out. She felt like she had the time a vampire had punched her in the chest. 

“Goodbye girls. I’ll never forget this place.” James gave another sad smile, and then walked away.

She should run after him – with her enhanced speed she’d catch up easily. But she couldn’t make her legs move. 

“Oh, I don’t fucking somehow think so dickface.” And then Michelle was speeding past her, eyes set on James’ retreating figure. 

Erin watched her go, a faint spark of hope in her. It was extinguished just a few minutes later when Michelle returned alone. She turned to stare at the stage, suddenly wishing she was home. She wanted to just leave, but knew she’d hate herself later if she missed the president. Eventually, she thought, James would become a footnote in her story of seeing the Bill Clinton. Rather than comfort her, the thought made her feel like she had been stabbed in the heart. She was drawn out of her thoughts when Orla gave a shout. 

“It’s him, I see him!” Orla was looking at the ground, her head in her hands. She sank to her knees, shaking her head.

“Orla, you’re facing the wrong way,” Erin said. But she had a horrible suspicion her cousin knew that. She crouched next to her, helpless to do anything but watch her cousin groan.

“No, it’s James!” Orla said. “He’s in the taxi, and then he’s not, and he’s – he’s – Peter’s standing over him.” 

“Oh no,” Erin said, her stomach dropping. 

“He took MY FUCKING COUSIN?” Michelle said. Her eyes blazed. 

“We need to get out of here,” Clare said. Erin looked around to see people staring at them curiously. She threw one of Orla’s arms over her shoulder, and pushed her away out of the crowd. 

“He did this on purpose,” Michelle said, the second they got away from the crowd. “Orla’s never had a full vision before, sure.” 

“It’s a trap,” Clare said. “He’s using James as bait for you.” 

“He has James in our church,” Orla said. “But – I’m not sure where in –“ 

Erin felt that familiar sensation – of adrenaline thrumming through her veins, reaching such a fever pitch that she was suddenly overcome with a feeling of calm. Her head spun, but when she spoke, her voice was steady.

“Go get Sister Michael,” she said.

“What?”

“Go get Sister Michael, and tell her we need her,” Erin said. 

“Okay,” Michelle nodded to Clare and Orla. “You lot go get the sister, I’ll go with Erin –“

“No,” Erin said. “All three of you need to go.” 

“NO,” Clare said, her head moving from Erin to Michelle so fast she was just a blonde blur. “You need backup.” 

“He’ll want me alone,” Erin said. “Otherwise he might just take James and run.” 

“Then I’ll go with you, and hide –“ Michelle said. 

Erin shook her head. “We don’t know what he can do – if he gave Orla a vision –“ 

“I’m okay,” Orla said determinedly. She was massaging her forehead, but was standing upright now. 

“We can’t let James die,” Erin said.

Michelle hesitated, looking around uncertainly, before stomping her foot. “Then I’ll go with you, but stay outside,” she said. “I’ll even stay across the street.” Erin opened her mouth to protest, but Michelle shook her head. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

Erin realized Michelle wouldn’t be dissuaded. She finally nodded. “Get home, and get all the weapons you can get your hands on, even your mam’s kitchen knife. Then meet me back here.” 

Michelle nodded, and took off.

“We’ll go get Sister Michael,” Clare said. She threw her arms around Erin. “Please, PLEASE be careful,” she begged. Orla crashed into them, squeezing them so tightly Erin was afraid she’d crush their lungs. 

Finally, Erin had to wheeze, “Orla, I’ve got to go get my weapons.” Clare managed to squirm out of the hug by sliding to the ground. She grabbed Orla, pulling her off of Erin. 

“We’ve got to – go – get – help –“ Clare said, trying to pull Orla away. Orla broke free and threw herself around Erin again. 

“Orla, I’ve got to go get James,” Erin wheezed. 

Orla finally let go, nodding resolutely. “Okay,” she said. 

Clare took Orla’s hand in hers. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. Then she and Orla ran off. 

The second they were gone Erin raced through the streets to her house. It was thankfully empty, everyone gone to see the president, so she didn’t have to disguise her panic. She raced up the stairs and into her room, throwing herself to the floor, and reaching under her bed. Just a week ago, Sister Michael had decided she was ready for a sword. 

Erin pulled it out from under her bed, and slung it over her shoulder. She grabbed as many daggers, stakes, and vials of holy water as she could carry, and stuffed an extra crucifix necklace in her pocket for James. She grabbed one of her own necklaces and fastened it around her neck, nodding in satisfaction as it settled over her collarbone. 

She raced back downstairs and out of the house, careful to go opposite the way she had come from. As she had hoped, Michelle had been too frantic to wonder why Erin had told her to meet her back in the crowded square, rather than by the church. Hopefully, by the time she’d realize that Erin had tricked her and left her behind, Sister Michael would be on the scene to help. 

Michelle’d be furious with her, but Erin couldn’t let her get hurt again. She’d figure out how to make things up to her after she got James to safety. 

She was going to deal with Peter once and for all.


	14. Chapter 14

Erin stared at the church, trying to find any signs of Peter’s presence. From the outside, there was nothing. The church looked the same as it always did. She took a deep breath, trying to bury her panic, and walked inside. 

Once inside, she saw the church was empty, due to the visit from the president. But also, weirdly, empty of Peter and James. Maybe Peter was hiding somewhere, waiting to attack? Or trying to keep a low profile in case someone did end up coming into the church? 

She walked further into the church, carefully withdrawing her sword from its scabbard, and holding it out in front of her. 

“James?” she called. 

Nothing. Not a yell, a grunt, or even a thump. 

Erin frowned, searching the church. She had never thought she’d be unhappy that Peter wasn’t around, but she was getting more worried with each passing minute.

Peter had wanted her to meet him here. He had sent the location to Orla in a vision. So where was he? 

She went outside, and glanced into the small graveyard that bordered the church. It hadn’t been used in years, and Erin didn’t think she ever remembered anyone visiting it. The people buried in it had died so many years ago that their immediate descendants were also dead. 

In the grass, there was a flash of red. Erin walked closer and swallowed hard when she realized it was blood. 

“Please, please don’t be James’,” she whispered to herself. 

She kneeled down by the grave that had blood next to it. She patted the ground, and was surprised when a thin layer of grass gave way to empty air. There was no coffin and not dirt beneath the grass, just a hole that faded away to darkness. She grabbed the mini-torch that she always carried with her while slaying, and shone it into the hole. Unfortunately, it didn’t reveal anything – the hole went down and down beyond her beam. 

She re-sheathed her sword, tucked away her torch, and then plunged into the hole. 

She fell through the pitch black, unable to see how deep the hole was, or who was at the end of it. Eventually she hit the ground, and thanked her Slayer abilities for giving her the skill to land on her feet without hurting herself. 

She swallowed hard, getting out her mini-torch again. As she swept it around, she stumbled back, eyes wide. 

She was standing in an underground graveyard, tombstones and mausoleums everywhere. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” she hissed, gazing at all the graves. 

Then she heard a gentle tapping. She cautiously walked forward into the darkness, torch in one hand, dagger in another. A few minutes of walking, and she was able to make out an odd shape in the shadows, one that didn’t look like a tombstone or mausoleum. 

As she got closer, she saw it was a person, tied to a tombstone and blinking from the sudden light. He was lightly tapping his fingers against the ground, trying to draw attention to himself. 

“James,” she breathed. Relief swept through her as she ran towards him, and she felt it grow when she got closer and saw that he wasn’t hurt. 

“Erin!” James brightened. “I thought I heard you, but I didn’t want to tip off Peter –“ 

“Neverminded that,” Erin said, cutting him free. “Are you hurt?” 

“I’m okay, really,” he said. “I don’t remember much, just that I was in the taxi one minute, and then the next woke up here.” He pulled back. “I was going to stay.” 

Erin’s heart soared. 

“I was going to tell Mum that I wanted to stay in Derry.” His brow furrowed. “I did tell her. But before we could turn the car around, I must have been knocked out, because I don’t remember anything else.” 

Erin couldn’t hold back a happy laugh, helping James to his feet. “Everyone’ll be so happy, and you’re okay, they’ll be happy about that too, they were so worried, even Michelle –“

James smiled and then stopped. His mood went from happy to worried so fast that Erin looked around, thinking Peter was standing behind her. But there was no one. 

“Erin, my mum,” James said. “If he knocked me out in the taxi, then he must have grabbed my mum too.”

Or killed her. But Erin knew she couldn’t say that – one look at James’ desperate face and she knew he’d break down if he thought his mam was killed. 

“Then I’ll go get her,” she said. “You wait here, and I’ll –“

“No.” James shook his head. “I’m not going to sit here and let you face Peter alone. And my mum, she must be so confused, she’ll need me there to explain everything to her –“ 

Erin hesitated, but she couldn’t see a way to make James hang back. If she tried to run, he’d follow her; if she knocked him out, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself if Peter showed up and tried to attack him. “All right then, but stay behind me.” 

James nodded, and once Erin had shared some of her weapons with him, the two cautiously started forward. 

“Do you know what this is?” James whispered, looking around at all the graves.

“No clue,” Erin said. “Maybe it’s a secret vampire burial place, where they bury all their victims? Maybe years ago this was a normal graveyard, and then something supernatural caused it to sink below?”

James shuddered. Erin’s grip on her sword tightened (James had offered to hold the torch). 

For the next few minutes they moved among the tombstones, Erin’s fear rising with every passing minute that they didn’t find Cathy. She had seen how James acted around his mam – even though she had abandoned him in Derry, he loved her. He’d be devastated if she was dead. Just as Erin was wondering if she was going to have to broach the subject of turning back with him, a scream reached their ears.

“Mum!” James ran forward.

“James no!” Erin yelled, rushing to get the lead again. Another scream reached their ears, and another. Oh God, what if Peter was killing her? What if he was DRAINING her? 

They ran forward, and Erin skidded to a stop when she saw Kathy. She was trapped in a mausoleum – the entrance had bars drawn across it, caging her in. But she was okay, and Erin couldn’t see Peter anywhere. She let out of a sigh of relief. 

“Mum!” James rushed over to the entrance, reaching through the bars to grab one of his mam’s hands. Erin hated to disturb the happiness on his face, but she had to speak up. 

“Mrs. Maguire, did you see anyone else around?” Erin said. “The person who brought you here?” 

“No, no I haven’t seen anyone. I just woke up in this awful place and - Oh James love, thank God you’re here. Get me out of here!” Kathy said. 

“I can pick the lock,” James said to Erin. Sister Michael had taught all the girls a while back, thinking they might need it to break into places to slay a demon.

“I’ll stand watch,” Erin said. Then, to Kathy: “In the taxi, did you see the person who abducted you?”

“No, I remember being in the taxi, and then I just woke up here in this awful place.” Kathy said. “And worrying about my son.” She cast an adoring look at James, who beamed back at her. 

“I got it,” James said. He triumphantly stood up and tried to draw the bars away from the entrance. They didn’t move. “It must have rusted,” he said, frowning. “I’m sure I heard the lock click.” Erin joined him, and drew the bars away with an earsplitting screech.

“That was not subtle,” she said, wincing. 

“Quite strong, aren’t you love?” Kathy said, delicately stepping out of the mausoleum. 

“It’s a very…very long story, Mum,” James said. “I’ll explain everything once we’re out of here.” 

“James, let’s hurry along,” Erin said, looking around, her anxiety rising. They had made so much noise that Peter had to know they were here. 

Behind her, there was a shout and a loud clang. Erin turned –

To see James locked in the mausoleum, Kathy standing in front of it.

“Mrs. Maguire?” Her voice had gone quiet.

“And we meet again,” came a voice from behind her. Erin turned to see Peter. She looked from Peter to Mrs. Maguire. An idea was growing in her brain, but the rest of her refused to acknowledge it. It couldn’t –

“Mrs. Maguire?” she said again. 

“Mum?” James said. Relief flooded through Erin, despite the situation. At least, whatever happened, James hadn’t been in on it – 

Mrs. Maguire wasn’t looking at her. She was examining her coat, brushing dirt off of it. “Well?” she said. Do it.” 

Erin turned on reflex and swung her sword. It connected with something solid, moving too fast for her to see. She heard James shouting, but didn’t pay any attention, keeping her eyes on the blurred figure that had landed a few feet away. One wrong move, and she knew she’d pay for it. 

“Mum, what are you doing?” James yelled. Erin could hear him banging against the bars of the mausoleum. 

“She’s helping to save the world,” Peter said, jumping to his feet. He grinned at Erin. “After that little display in the graveyard, it was so easy to connect the dots and make a plan. Just a little night trip to London, and an explanation to Kathy about what you’ve been doing in Derry, what you’ve been involving her son in.” 

“I didn’t –“ Erin paused, rethinking the past series of events. “Okay, maybe Sister Declan attacked him because of me, but everything after that was because he wanted to be there!” 

“It’s true, mum!” 

“Hush love, you’re just confused,” Kathy said. “We’re going to help the Father, and then he’s going to give us eternal life .” 

Erin tried to focus on Peter, but a part of her brain was screaming in rage. Kathy had arranged for a 16 year old, the daughter of one of her old schoolfriends, to be killed just so she could get eternal life? That was why she had done it, she didn’t give a fuck about James’ safety. James… Erin felt bile rise as she thought about James as a vampire. Once he became one, he wouldn’t be James anymore – the transformation did something to people’s minds. Sweet, kind James would be made into someone who wanted to rip people’s throats out. 

But only if Peter and Kathy won. 

She raised the sword, and ran towards Peter. He dodged her attack, rolling out of range and whipping out knives of his own. He threw the first knife at Erin, the movement so fast that she barely dodged. She heard a whoosh of wind, and knew he had thrown the second knife. She instinctively lashed out with the sword, and a second later her arm shook with vibrations. The sword had struck the knife like a bat with a ball, sending it spinning wildly across the graveyard. 

Erin looked around for Peter, but found that he was gone. She frowned, narrowing her eyes. Even with her enhanced sight, she could barely see further than a few feet. The only light was coming from the torch that now lay at the steps of the mausoleum. 

A sound behind her – 

Erin whipped around, turning and jumping backward as Peter threw another knife. He hadn’t expected the sudden movement, had thought he had her properly confused. Her movement meant the knife’s aim was suddenly off. It didn’t sink in her shoulder, but several inches lower, just above her heart. 

Erin dropped to her knees. She touched the handle of the knife, her head spinning. She couldn’t remember if she needed to pull it out, or keep it in. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, but as soon as her eyes shut dizziness consumed her, and she fell to her side. 

“Mum no, Mum please, stop it, help her!” James hysterical screams rang in her ears. Erin tried to turn her head, so she could see him once more, but her head was too heavy and her vision too cloudy…

‘I wanted to live,’ she thought, as the darkness closed in. ‘I wanted to live. I wanted – I want –‘ She suddenly wanted her mammy, very much. She wanted warmth and safety and love –

And then she didn’t want anything anymore.


	15. Chapter 15

“I am going to kill her.” 

“Michelle!” 

“Oh shut it, Clare,” Michelle fumed. She was trying to save her irritation until she ran into Peter, but it was hard. Ever since she had realized Erin had left her behind, she had been seeing red. It hadn’t gotten any better when Sister Michael had refused to let her have a battle ax. She had to settle for a stupid baseball bat instead, like a wain. 

“Miss Mallon, I’ve told you, we are TRYING to have the element of surprise,” Sister Michael said. 

“We’ve been creeping through this place for ten minutes. Ach, are we even sure she’s here?” Michelle said. She looked around at the graves, the mausoleums, the dirt forming a roof above her head. She tried not to, but kept looking up every couple minutes, worried the whole place was going to collapse. 

“It’s an underground graveyard, where else WOULD a vampire be?” Sister Michael snapped. 

“People are here,” Orla said vaguely. 

“Oh, that’s a help,” Michelle muttered. “Listen, maybe –“ She was cut off by a distant yell. It was too far away to make out the words, but she recognized the voice as James’. 

All four of them ran forward, James’ voice getting louder as they got closer. 

“Mum, Mum please stop this, Mum please save her –“

Michelle ran forward, bat at the ready. She had never heard cousin like this, ever. She had been right, something was going on with his mam, but it wasn’t about the fucking stickers. 

Finally, she saw a weak light up ahead. She fumbled her torch out of her pocket and shone it around the scene. Kathy was standing against a mausoleum, her face white. James was locked inside the mausoleum. For a second, Michelle wondered why Kathy wasn’t helping him, and then it hit her – this had ben a set-up. Michelle swore under her breath at her aunt, and then swore at James for good measure, too, for being gullible. Then another voice caught her attention. 

Erin lay on the ground, Peter crouching over her. He was screaming just as loud as James. 

“You stupid girl, you idiotic –“ Michelle never knew what he was going to say next, because she was already running at him. She jumped on his back in a flying leap, hooked her bat under her arms, and slammed it against his throat. She threw her weight backwards, making him stumble away from Erin. 

He stumbled backwards, hands clawing at her, trying to get her off. She clung on, trying not to get dizzy as he stumbled around the room.

Finally, he got his hands between the bat and his neck. He pushed at the bat, and despite how hard she tried, Michelle knew he would win this fight. He was stronger than her, and the bat was slowly moving away from his throat. 

She relaxed her grip on the bat, surprising him – and then raised the bat a little higher and smashed it against his teeth. 

A pained howl filled the graveyard, making Michelle smile grimly. Until he gave one last twist of his torso, and she finally went flying off. 

She landed hard on the ground, knocking the air out of her lungs. For several moments, her body was too stunned to move. Finally she forced herself to breath and stumble to her feet. 

A scream ripped through the graveyard. Michelle turned her head, expecting to see Peter biting into someone. But it was just Orla, standing there, staring at Erin. Clare had her arms around Orla, was holding her back, and Michelle could see her shoulders shaking with sobs. Suddenly, fear overwhelmed her. She turned to Erin once more. 

Michelle had assumed Erin had been knocked out, like she had so many times. But this time, Erin was covered in red. It was all around her, on her, even covering strands of hair. 

“No,” Michelle said. She was suddenly at Erin’s side, yanking out a knife out of her chest. “No, no no.” She looked up at her aunt, at James. “What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” she screamed, Erin’s blood thick on her hands. 

“Michelle, Michelle you can save her!” James said. “My potion, the potion that can heal, it’s in her pocket, I gave it to her before I left –“

Hope roared through her, and she immediately began to search Erin’s jacket pockets, tossing out vials of Holy Water and stakes. 

“Michelle!” At Clare’s scream, she looked at the last couple of vials she had thrown – there, mixed with the Holy Water, was a small container with a turquoise liquid. She scrambled after it on her hands and knees as it rolled away from her. 

“Oh God oh God oh sweet Jesus God –“ she muttered, desperately reaching out for the vial that kept itself just inches out of her reach. She lunged for it, scraping her knees against the rough stone. Her hands closed around the bottle, and she stumbled to her feet. She rushed back to Erin, trying to get the cork out of the bottle. 

Erin was where she had left her - pale and motionless. Michelle suddenly skidded to a stop, a horrible thought hitting her. 

“What if she doesn’t have a pulse?” she croaked. “What if she’s not breathing, will it still work?” 

“She’s alive, I can see her spirit. Just barely –“ Orla said. She and Clare had rushed over to the mausoleum, yanking on the bars to try and free James. 

Michelle hit the ground, ignoring the protest from her already aching knees, and turned Erin’s head so it was facing her. Erin didn’t move – not even a twitch of eyelids – to show she knew what was going on. 

“Shit shit shit,” Michelle cursed, still trying to open the bottle. “I can’t – I can’t.” It took everything in her to not throw the glass up against the walls in frustration. “WHY THE FUCK DID SHE MAKE IT SO SMALL?” she said, cursing stupid Rita and her stupid van. 

There was a hissing noise, and Michelle looked up a blurred figure racing at her. She had just enough time to put the vial on the ground, hoping it didn’t get broken in the fight, before Peter was on her. 

He loomed over her, one hand on her neck, pining her to the ground. The other hand held her bat. He raised it above his head, his eyes fixed on her. 

Then he was gone. 

Michelle blinked, and then raised herself to her knees, looking around. Orla had tackled Peter off her, and was now wrestling him away from Michelle. As she watched in disbelief, Clare joined the fight, screeching in fury. 

She started forward until a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her backwards. It was Sister Michael, eyes narrowed, stake raised. 

“My turn.” 

Michelle was about to protest when she remembered Erin. She swung around, already moving toward her. 

“The potion –“

But James already had it, was racing over to Erin with it. He knelt down beside her, fumbling with the tiny bottle. For a horrible second, Michelle thought he would break it. Then he yanked the cork out of the vial, and poured the liquid into Erin’s mouth. 

He gathered her into his arms, tilting her head so the liquid would go down easier. For a second everything, it seemed, went quiet and still. 

Michelle blinked, her attention drawn away from her friend for a minute when she realized her cousin was stroking Erin’s face. She wasn’t even sure if he realized he was doing it, he was gazing down into her blank face like a madman, eyes crazed, a thumb gently brushing her cheek. For a second, her own pain dimmed, and she realized how destroyed James would be if Erin died…

Then he drew in a shaky breath, and relaxed. Michelle raced forward, looking over his shoulder. The wound on Erin’s chest was growing smaller, blood going from a gush to a trickle, to a full stop. A flush returned to her skin, and a few seconds later, her eyes began to flutter. 

“Oh thank fuck,” Michelle said. Suddenly she was on the ground, her knees too shaky to let her stand. 

“That’s not who I’d thank,” Sister Michael said. She had blood on her, but looked okay. Behind her, Michelle could see Peter, passed out on the ground. Clare and Orla stood nearby, watching with wide eyes.

In James’ arms, Erin stirred. She opened her eyes, looking at her friends, Sister Michael, the graveyard. She looked at the arms around her with confusion, and then up into James’ face. 

“What the hell is going on?” she asked.


	16. Chapter 16

She wanted her mammy, and warmth and safety and love - 

And then she opened her eyes to James’ face. His eyes widened, his face contorted, frightening Erin until she realized he was holding off tears. She looked around – and she wasn’t on the ground anymore, she was in James’ arms – when had that happened? – And saw her friends and Sister Michael, all standing around, all just staring at her. Sister Michael had blood on her front, Orla and Clare had scratches, Michelle’s knees were bleeding. 

“What the hell happened?” Erin asked. 

When she spoke everyone started gasping, crying, shouting – like they had never seen her saying anything before – 

Then she saw Orla flying towards her for a split second and then her cousin was on her, and she was buried under a pile of people, being hugged so hard she couldn’t breathe, feeling her chest tighten in panic –

“Okay, that’s enough. Let her get her breath.” 

The girls were off her, but stayed clustered in a circle around her. Everyone was crying, even Michelle and fuck, Michelle never cried. She looked around, desperate for someone to just act normal – and stared up at Sister Michael. She wasn’t crying, thank you Jesus, although her face was really pale. 

“How are you feeling, Erin?” 

Erin just stared, wondering why she wasn’t “Miss Quinn” anymore. 

“Erin?” Sister Michael prodded.

“Okay, I guess.” She looked around. Everyone was still crying, and she swallowed hard. It was so weird to have four people just staring at you and sobbing. “What – what happene –“

And then she remembered the trap, the fight, the flash of the knife right before it entered her chest – 

She looked down, and nearly boked at all the blood on her. Her shirt and jeans were all sticky and wet with it, clinging to her skin. And, she realized that, beneath that –

“It’s alright!” Sister Michael said, but Erin ignored her, pulling at her shirt. She had been stabbed, she was fucking drowning in her own blood, how the fuck was it alright – “You’re alright, you’ve been healed!”

Erin stared up at her, not knowing if she should trust her. What if she was dying? What if she was already dead? Was this all some random hallucination made up by her? Was this heaven? Hell? 

“James healed you with that potion he got off of Rita,” Michelle said, her voice coming out in a rasp. 

Oh. That explained a lot. So, so she wasn’t actually dead, or dying, or in heaven or hell or – 

She was alive.

Sweet Jesus she had nearly died.

“We need to get you home,” Sister Michael said. 

She thought of home, and her mammy, and soft blankets and her own room – but she didn’t know how she felt about it anymore. She wanted to feel something, but she couldn’t. 

“Help her up,” Sister Michael said, and then someone had placed their shoulders under one of her arms, and was standing with her leaning against them.

“Before we do, though –“ Sister Michael’s eyes moved over to the side of the graveyard, and so did Erin’s, and she felt her heart stop.

Peter was lying there. 

For a second she couldn’t think of anything, drowning under a wave of fear. He had nearly killed her. He would have killed her, if it hadn’t been for the potion. And if he did it once, he could do it again. And she wasn’t strong enough to fight him, she had proven that – 

Then Orla’s arms were around her, her cousin’s head on top of hers. 

“He can’t hurt you anymore Erin,” she said. “Sister Michael got him good.” 

Sister Michael strode forward, and pulled a long, thick silver chain out of her pocket. She leaned the unconscious Peter up against a gravestone, and wound it around him. Small whisps of smoke started to rise up from him.

“He’ll be okay,” Sister Michael said. “The clothes will mostly protect him from burns.”

“And why do we want him to be okay, exactly?” Michelle asked.

“Because we need to question him and find out why he was so eager to get his hands on Miss Quinn there,” Sister Michael said, nodding to Erin. Erin noticed she was “Miss Quinn” again. “I’ll get you lot home, and then come back for him. I can find a place to keep him.” 

“What about my mum?” James asked quietly. 

Erin jumped slightly, remembering for the first time that Mrs. Maguire had sold her out, had been willing to have her killed, just so she could be a fucking vampire. 

“Aye, what’ll we do with her?” Michelle said, her lip curling. “And do you need some help taking her in –“

“I do not,” Sister Michael said. “She’s gone.” 

Erin looked around, and realized she hadn’t seen or heard anything from Mrs. Maguire since she had been fighting Father Peter. She must have snuck away while everyone was trying to heal her. 

Had she not even cared about seeing if Erin lived or died? 

“Fucking bitch,” Michelle said. “Wish I –“ 

“That’s enough, Miss Mallon,” Sister Michael said, in an even sharper than usual tone. She turned to James. “I’m sorry son.” 

James stared at her, and then around at the rest of his friends. He shook his head, looking at the ground. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a second, and then closed it again. 

“Right then,“ Sister Michael said. “Let’s go.”

Orla heaved Erin into her arms, holding her in a bridal carry. 

“Sweet Jesus she’s strong,” Claire muttered. 

“Maybe I could ride on your shoulders, Orla?” Erin said, trying to avoid bouncing in her cousin’s arms. 

“Aye,” Orla said cheerfully. 

“Hm,” Sister Michael said, eyebrows raised. “Maybe I should have had you in training too, Miss McCool.”

“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Michelle said. 

*

They made an odd picture, walking back through Derry – Sister Michael leading the way; Michelle following close behind, glaring at the nun; Erin riding piggyback on Orla. Clare and James stumbled behind, either too tired or depressed to talk. 

“So what’s the plan?” Michelle said. “We can’t just walk into our mams’ houses all covered in blood and dirt. They’ll finish what Peter started.” 

“Leave that to me,” Sister Michael said. Erin opened her eyes in gratitude for a moment, and then closed them again. She didn’t want to know how far or close they were to home – she just wanted to be there, and to fall into bed and a bath and to never have to move again. 

She knew they reached her house when they all stopped, a door opened, and the damp air of Derry was exchanged for her house’s dry one. 

And then a scream fit to bring the roof down hit her. 

Her eyes snapped open and she tried to get down from Orla, mind racing with thoughts of Peter getting free, trying to get revenge – 

“ERIN, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAPPENED?” 

Oh. Just her mam. She closed her eyes again, leaning against Orla. 

“It’s alright, Mrs. Quinn,” Sister Michael said soothingly – Erin hadn’t even believed Sister Michael COULD be soothing. “There was an accident, but Miss Quinn will be fine.”

“WILL be fine? Why isn’t she fine right now?” 

“A minor accident. She was in the school to get some missing materials she had forgotten to take home, and fell down one of our staircases. It was quite old, you know, not very stable.” Sister Michael sounded so reasonable, Erin almost believed the story. 

“How badly is she hurt – Do I need to take her to the doc.?”

Oh God, she didn’t want to go anywhere. Why couldn’t they just let her go to bed –

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?”

Oh good, her grandda was here.

*

Erin spent the next few days simply lying in bed. When she wasn’t sleeping, she was staring at the ceiling. When she wasn’t staring at the ceiling, she was sleeping. She tried to read, write, do anything else, but she couldn’t focus. She would have said her boredom was killing her, but, well, now that she knew what it was like to almost be killed, she couldn’t say it measured up. 

Orla barely left her side. Michelle and Clare visited daily, staying for hours. James would come with them, but he was acting oddly. He sat in the room, barely speaking, never even looking at her. 

She wished he would talk with her. No matter was going on, she had always felt better after a talk with James. Orla might have been able to read her aura or whatever, but James was the one who had truly understood her emotions. 

She wondered if he was angry with her for getting his mam involved in all this. On the third day of bedrest, Michelle said that they had tried to call her aunt’s home, but nobody picked up. She gleefully had reported that Kathy, according to Sister Michael, wasn’t just in trouble with them. 

“Sister said she’d be surprised if Kathy didn’t go to ground to avoid the vampires. She said they won’t be too happy with her, if she and Peter made some promises to deliver you, and then didn’t.” Michelle shrugged. “Of course, Sister Michael’s still trying to get the truth out of Peter, to figure out why he wanted to grab you, but she says it’s just a matter of time.” 

Erin’s stomach had twisted at her words, and she curled up in a ball under the covers. 

James still wouldn’t look at her.


	17. Chapter 17

Erin looked down, scowling at the book. She couldn’t see why Clare had recommended this “Moby Dick” book – she had guaranteed a cracking tale about a whale and a man’s madness, had even lent Erin her copy while she was bedbound. But Erin could barely get through a page without falling back asleep. 

She was feeling much better, was bored even, but she still couldn’t get out of bed for more than a few minutes without being exhausted. Sister Michael had warned her that this might happen – that the strain of nearly dying and her body repairing itself on the brink of death would leave her exhausted for a week or two. 

She threw the book at the wall, and collapsed back on her bed. Back to staring at the ceiling it was, then. 

A knock came, and Erin looked towards the door. Her mam was standing there, looking concerned. 

“Erin, you have a visitor.” 

Erin raised her eyebrows, surprised. Her mam normally just let her friends come up, and she couldn’t think of anyone else who would – 

Sister Michael entered the room, examining the posters and scattered clothes with a raised eyebrow. Erin felt torn between embarrassment at the state of her room, and irritation that the sister was judging it. 

She had almost died, couldn’t she catch a break? 

“Thank you,” Sister Michael said to her mam. Her mam nodded, and then when no one said anything else, she left, looking curiously over her shoulder. 

“Well then,” Sister Michael pulled up a chair. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” Erin said, the depressing question making her look back at the ceiling. “Grand. I can’t get out of bed without wanting a nap, I nearly died, and James won’t look me in the eye, but otherwise I’m good.” 

“Well, that is grand,” Sister Michael said, ignoring Erin’s tone. “Now, I thought you’d want to know – I’ve managed to get it out of Peter why he wanted you so badly.” 

“Cause I’m the Slayer?” Erin said, not looking away from the ceiling. It seemed so obvious she wasn’t sure why Sister Michael had plied Peter with truth potion, trying to get the whole story. 

“Yes,” Sister Michael said. “But with an asterisk.”

Erin turned to stare at her, confused.

“Apparently, he was to kidnap you and deliver you to a group of vampires. You see, they had the bright idea that, if they got such a kick from blood, what would happened when they drank Slayer blood?” Sister Michael shook her head. “Nothing good for us, that’s what would happen. Vampires would get even stronger, faster, more alert.” 

“Wait, but why did Father Peter want to take me alive?” Erin asked. “They could have just killed me and drank my blood afterwards.” 

Sister Michael sighed. “You see, there is only one Slayer at a time. If a new Slayer’s powers are activated, that means the Slayer before them has died. So their plan was to keep a Slayer alive to drink their blood, but to keep them weak from fighting anyone. To, essentially, have a world without a Slayer.”

“Jesus,” Erin said. The room seemed to spin around her. “I think I’m going to be sick.” If it hadn’t been for just a few lucky coincidences – Sister Michael being there for the first fight, James showing up on Prom Night, the knife hitting her in the wrong place, she would be living out a fate worse than death. She could have been a human blood bag for years, a meal for whoever wanted her powers, hoping for death. 

“Yes,” Sister Michael said. Her voice was tense, and Erin could sense anger boiling beneath her. “I’m still trying to figure out who is was that was ordering Peter to grab you.” She took a deep breath. “As far as I can tell, involving Kathy was all Peter’s idea.”

“Have you found her yet?” Erin said, her stomach roiling even more. She didn’t know how she felt about Mrs. Maguire – she had set her up to be kidnapped, but Erin didn’t want to destroy her like she did with vampires and demons. For one thing, she was still a human. Erin had hunted vampires and demons, but to hunt a human? The moral issues involved made her head ache. For the second, Kathy was James’ mam. As much as Erin hated her, she didn’t want to hurt James. And hurting Kathy would hurt James, no matter how upset he was with his mam. 

“Can’t find a trace of her,” Sister Michael said darkly, and Erin tried to push down the relief she felt. 

“Do you know how James is doing?” Erin asked shyly.

Sister Michael stared at her. “I would have thought you’d know the answer to that more than me.” 

Erin looked down at her blankets. “He comes to see me but he doesn’t really talk much.” 

Sister Michael sighed. “Give him time. It’s very difficult, what you went through.” She waved a hand at Erin. “Obviously worse for you, since you nearly died, but still, finding out one’s mother is a cruel, malicious –“ She stopped at the sound of the door opening. 

“Erin!” Orla suddenly jumped onto Erin’s bed, hugging her cousin.

“Orla,” Erin said in a strained voice. “Remember what we said about being gentle?”

“Oh,” Orla grinned. “Sorry.” 

“Anyway,” Sister Michael. “What I came by to say was – you went through a lot. And it’s going to take its toll on you. Only time will tell how much it takes.” 

Erin really hoped Sister Michael hadn’t been a lot of sickbeds, because this wasn’t reassuring. 

“But I know you’ll get through it.” She hesitated, and then gave Erin’s hand a quick pat, as though unaccustomed to the gesture. “You and your friends – you’ve saved Derry before, you saved Derry just now from Peter, and you’ll save it again.” She looked at the ceiling. “I try not to fall into the trap of assuming everyone’s competent but…you…you’re a good Slayer.”

Sister Michael cleared her throat, uncomfortable with all the honesty and emotion. “Well then, I ought to be on my way. I’ll stop by in a few days to see how your recovery’s coming.” She walked to the door and then stopped. She stood there for so long Erin was afraid something had happened, when the sister gave a huge sigh and turned back to her. “And tell Miss Mallon that, if she’d like to join your training when you’re well enough to resume it, she can do so. But only because I’ve gotten tired of chasing her away! Wasting all my time…”

Erin tried to hold back a grin as Sister Michael left. 

“Well, Michelle’ll like that,” she told her cousin. 

Orla, her mouth full of candy from Dennis’, nodded. 

Erin leaned back in bed, feeling better than she had in days. She looked at her cousin and smiled. “Can I have a bon-bon?”

Sister Michael was right. She was a good Slayer. And she had good friends. Sure, there was a lot to worry over, a lot to fear, but she could face it. 

She could face anything so long as her friends were with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! Thanks so much for reading - I had so much fun writing this story! Two things to know: 
> 
> 1) While I'm sad this story's over, I'm already working on a sequel. I realized that I was having so much fun with this AU I wasn't ready to let it go. I also realized that the aftereffects of James' and Erin's encounter with Kathy and Peter was something I really wanted to explore in detail - Erin has to deal with the fact that she nearly died, James has to deal with the fact that Kathy used him and tried to hurt Erin. 
> 
> 2) Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and gave me encouragement on this fic! It's not an exaggeration to say I couldn't have finished this fic without you! 
> 
> I'll see you in the sequel!


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